Set Me Free
by khala
Summary: I took the characters of Jason, Elizabeth, and Zander AWAY from Port Charles. This is completely a different reality. A Zander/Elizabeth friendship, and Liason romance with little Michael added for fun.
1. From My Point of View

Author's Notes:  Sooo.. it's another Liason story.  I'm telling ya, that's the only couple I know how to write for.  Anyway, just wanted to let you know that I seriously changed the history of three characters, the mention of a history change for another major character, and little Michael only has ONE daddy.  Oh, and for the Carly fans who read this and think "she _wouldn't do that!"  Well, she did.  It's my story, I think that's what I'm trying to say.  _

Disclaimer:  I don't own these peeps, except for those you don't recognize.  Those honors go to General Hospital, ABC, and Disney.  **And I'd really appreciate it if they didn't sue me.  Of course, in true Jason Morgan style… they all really belong to themselves.  Of course, if I did own them, I'd hope that I wouldn't complain when people like me borrowed them.  They gotta have some fun once in awhile.  **

Ok, that's all.  Sorry for talking your ear off!

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**Set Me Free -- Prologue**

In the beginning it was sex.   
  
Just two lost people coming together for comfort. I never expected to love her. At that time in my life, I was so lost and I see that now, but I couldn't then. I didn't listen to Monica or Alan when they told me Carly was using me. I couldn't understand that all she wanted was the Golden Boy's trust fund. I was a child in a man's body. Monica pleaded with me to remember, begged me to love her, to love the whole family. But I wouldn't, I couldn't. With the exception of Emily and Lila, I could have cared less about the whole damn family.   
  
That was the way I was with most of the people before my accident. Really, I only managed to reconnect with Elizabeth. She was in the hospital room when I woke up. She stood by as my family hugged me and each other, as they told me they loved me, and waited patiently for me to remember. I remember that she would leave during the day, when the Quartermaines would come. But Elizabeth would always come back to me at night. She'd bring her homework, a few CD's, and some books to read to me. She'd tell me about Jason Quartermaine, if I asked her. But mostly she just let me be. Elizabeth was the first person in my life who ever let me do that.   
  
Then she went to live with her parents in Colorado, and I met Carly. Looking back, I can see the dollar signs that flashed in her eyes the first time she heard I lived in the Quartermaine mansion. Even though I hated it there, I wasn't stupid. Yes, living in the woods would have been better, but I would have never survived. The doctors all said I was damaged and would never function properly. They said I would never be able to love.   
  
I didn't love Carly when we left Port Charles. We'd known each other three weeks. I'd go to her room at Jake's and we'd have sex. Sometimes we'd play pool, sometimes we'd dance. But we'd always, always have sex. Afterwards, we'd lay there and she'd tell me about life outside of Port Charles. All of the places she'd been, things she'd done. She'd tell me about her best friend, Carly Roberts, and how she was killed in a car accident.   
  
The first fight we ever had was right before she asked me to leave with her. I'd brought her to the mansion for dinner. Carly hadn't dressed up for the occasion, and Monica had looked at her like she was white trash. AJ had invited Jason Quartermaine's girlfriend, Keesha, to the dinner, the whole family hoping I'd see her and after all of these months remember being in love with her.   
  
That night, when I took Carly back to the bar, she told me she was leaving. Something big was happening in Chicago and she wanted to be a part of it. Her father, Frank Benson, was going to be there and he was going to fix her up with some friends. Then—then she told me she loved me and asked if I'd go with her.   
  
The next day, I was sitting down with the head banker of Port Charles Bank & Trust, wanting to close my account. He'd looked at me strangely, had wanted to call my grandfather, but because I was legally over 18, he knew there was nothing he could do to stop me. Carly was waiting in the parking lot in our rental car.   
  
By the time we arrived in Chicago, I was in love with Carly. Or Caroline, as I liked to call her. She was—is—a beautiful person. Long blonde hair, big brown eyes, a beautiful body. She was smart, but impulsive. Everything I never needed in a woman. I see that now.   
  
Her father hadn't been lying when he said he had contacts in Chicago. Carly had an uncle who was a lawyer in the city and he let us live in one of his houses, rent free. We took the money from the trust fund and put it in the bank, both of us hoping it'd last. I took a job as a mechanic in a motorcycle shop and Carly started waitressing. I admit, she wasn't very good at it and the owner of the diner threatened to fire her at least three times a week, but we got by. It turns out, I didn't trust her as much as I thought I did. I took about a hundred thousand dollars from the trust fund and put it in a separate account. Looking back, I know it was the only thing that saved Michael and me.   
  
Michael is my son with Carly. Michael Robert Morgan. Robert after her friend who died and Morgan because I didn't want to be a Quartermaine anymore. Morgan was Lila's maiden name. We found out she was pregnant in October 1996. Michael was born May 17, 1997. Carly left five days later.   
  
It was her impulsiveness, I think. Somewhere deep down, I knew Carly wouldn't stick around to help me raise Michael. The boy had red hair—she said he got it from her mother and blue eyes like mine. While she was pregnant, I knew she loved him. Carly even gave up the junk food she loved so much and took the vitamins her doctor gave her. She loved him very much when he was inside of her. But after he was born, something changed. She pulled back. I thought she was just going through some kind of postpartum depression. I'd read about it in one of the books I read before Michael was born.   
  
I can still remember the socks I was wearing the day she left. Every minute detail haunted me in my dreams for weeks, until I realized she was never going to come back. I didn't doubt that she loved me, but she proved to me that sometimes love isn't enough. When I came home from work that day, Carly's aunt's car was in the driveway. It scared me a little because her relatives had only been by to visit twice since we'd moved to Chicago. Immediately, I thought something was wrong with Michael. It wasn't until I found him gurgling in his crib that my mind was set at ease. Vanessa, her aunt, told me Carly had wanted some time by herself and had asked her to baby-sit. She readily agreed because she'd hardly seen Michael since he was born.   
  
It was at that moment I knew something was **wrong**. Carly didn't even _like_ Vanessa, much less trust her enough to watch Michael. And time by herself? She _hated_ being by herself. Carly needed to feel like she belonged to something. After I assured Vanessa everything was fine and she left, the first thing I did was call the bank. The money in our account was gone. Every last penny of it. She'd taken it all. Then I called her parents in Florida, but they hadn't heard from her. Her mother, Virginia, said she probably just went for a walk and that I was blowing it out of proportion. But I knew she was gone.   
  
I sat on the couch holding Michael a long time that night. I gave him a bottle and rocked him to sleep. As he slept, I made promises to him I wasn't sure if I could keep. I promised that we'd always be together. I told him I'd take care of him and that he'd never be alone. I said I'd never leave and that I loved him. And I did. I loved him more that day than I'd ever loved anyone. Because he was all I had left.   
  
When I put him in his crib sometime after midnight, I stumbled into the room Carly and I shared. It still smelled like her. A thousand questions were racing through my mind as I began to wonder what I was going to do. How I was going to make it. How _we_ were going to make it. What about money? Food? Where were we going to live? I didn't know.   
  
It was then that I saw the card on my pillow. An ivory envelope that said _Jason_ on the front. I held it for hours, knowing that it was the last time I'd ever hear from Carly. I didn't understand, and I knew the card wasn't going to help. What could she possibly say that would make this okay?   
  
I cried. I didn't realize it until I saw the drops on the envelope, smearing my scripted name. Finally, I worked up the courage to see what she had to say for herself. Instead of a printed card, I found Carly had just taken some card stock and folded it in half. I turned to the inside and the two pages were filled with her words. I skimmed them as she told me what to tell Michael when he was old enough to understand. She wanted him to know she loved him, that she'll always love him. A lot of things I was having a hard time believing at the moment.   
  
Then, the last two sentences were for me. As I read them, I knew that I'd never forget what she said for as long as I lived.   
  
_"I love you Jason, I do. Please don't doubt that. But I can't stay. I know you'll take care of Michael. I'd like to say I'll see ya later, but I won't. Goodbye, Jase. Love- Caroline"_

~*~

The first memory I have is my fifth birthday party. My grandmother, Audrey Hardy, had invited the hospital staff and their families over to celebrate the day. I probably remember that day because it was the first time I felt like I had a family outside of Gram.   
  
My parents dumped me on her doorstep when I was two weeks old. My father, Jeff, had been offered a fellowship in Russia right before my mom, Cheryl, had found out she was pregnant. At the time, he had to turn it down. By some amazing stroke of luck—or misfortune, however you look at it—the fellowship still hadn't been filled after I was born. My father didn't hesitate to take the position. After a brief stop in Port Charles, where he left me with his stepmother, they were off to brave the Siberian winter on the other side of the world, away from me.   
  
I think I remember my fifth birthday because it was the day I met my best friend. He was seven. Jason Quartermaine was from the most prominent family in town. His parents worked with my grandmother at General Hospital. His mother, Monica, once had an affair with my uncle Rick. It seemed fated that Jason and I would be friends.   
  
My senior year in high school, Jason was in a car accident. His older brother was driving drunk and Jason was trying to stop him. Instead, AJ managed to wrap Jason's head around a tree in the driveway. Jason Quartermaine died that night. A month later, Jason Morgan was born.   
  
I was in the room when he woke up. I immediately ran to get Monica and Alan, I wanted them all to know he was awake and okay. Well, not okay, exactly. Jason didn't remember anything about his previous life. Not his family, not his friends, not me. I didn't give up though. I couldn't. In my short life, I'd only had a few people who had always been there for me. Jason was one of them.   
  
Slowly we rebuilt our relationship. I didn't have much time, though. My parents had summoned me to Colorado after I graduated, four months away. He spent three weeks in the hospital after he woke up, and I spent every night with him. I'd go to school during the day, then visit him at night. I'd bring my homework so I could keep my grades up. Sometimes I'd bring other books to read to him, and CDs so he could listen to the music. I just knew he didn't need to be alone like he was. No one should be alone.   
  
At first, Jason treated me like them. He kicked me out of his room and he swore to me that he'd never remember me. After awhile, I think he finally got that I didn't want him to remember. If Jason Morgan was all I could have, I was happy with that. I worked with him on the basic things. I was there when he read his first sentence from one of those 'Dick & Jane' books. When we'd go out together, I helped him match his clothes. It got to the point that he'd only wear solid colored shirts and jeans. And motorcycle boots. It never made sense to me…why he'd choose motorcycle boots.  
  
I knew he hated living in the Quartermaine mansion. He even considered for half a second coming to Colorado with me. Our four months together flew by, but I was confidant that we'd remain friends across the miles. A friendship like ours wasn't something either of us could walk away from.   
  
So when I got to Colorado, I wrote him letters. I enrolled in college in Denver and studied teaching. Art was—_ is_—my passion, but I knew I could never make a living as an artist. My parents pressured me to go into medicine, but I resisted. They already had two doctors in the family, why did they need a third? For four years I lived in their house, under their rules. Each moment, I was dying to get out. I knew I'd die if I didn't leave soon.   
  
Jason and I kept in contact after I left. I wrote him letters and he'd write me back. Things I knew he would never tell anyone else. I'm not sure why he told me, I just knew I was grateful. Four months after I left Port Charles he wrote me about a girl. Caroline, he called her. She was going to take him away from Port Charles. Away from the Quartermaines. He promised to continue writing. Two weeks later, there was an envelope with a Chicago postmark and I knew it was him. He was ecstatic in his letter—his Caroline was pregnant.   
  
The letters continued through the next six months, each telling me of the child they were going to have, the family they'd be. Then, they just stopped. I continued to write, but I never got a response. Finally, one was sent back stamped _no forwarding address_ and I knew I'd lost my oldest friend.   
  
I had three years of college to finish at that point. Since my parents were paying for school, I knew I'd have to live with the life they were choosing for me. I took a job bartending during the night at a college bar near the university. My parents didn't approve of the way I made my money, but they didn't try to stop me either. Since I was living in their house, I put all of my money in the bank, just waiting for the day I would escape this hell.   
  
Instead of attending my graduation ceremony, I packed my bags. My parents, Stephen, and Sarah were all at the ceremony. As they called my name and waited for me to get my diploma, I was boarding a bus on my way to Chicago. Jason briefly crossed my mind when I decided where I was going, but I knew I'd never find him. Chances were, he was back in Port Charles. I hoped not. I didn't want to think he'd given up, but I didn't know what happened to him and his Caroline. And their son. Michael Morgan, he had said in his last letter. He'd be three now.   
  
No, my cousin lived in Chicago, too. We were related through my mother's family. Zander was Aunt Joyce's oldest son, from an affair she had with a married man as a teenager. I'd met him on my 19th birthday. Zander was twenty-two then. It was the last family function he ever attended. Shortly after, he left home to work in Chicago. I'd overheard my parents speculating about his job. It seemed that the man he worked for was arrested on racketeering charges, even though he was later set free because of lack of evidence.   
  
When I left Denver, I wasn't sure if Zander would help me. We'd only met once, but I got his address from my father's book. I'm not even sure why my father had it, but for the first time in my life I was grateful to him. I rode the bus because I couldn't afford to fly. And I knew it'd be harder for my parents to trace me this way. I knew they'd look, but hopefully once I got to Chicago I could disappear into the masses.   
  
Wasn't that the reason people went to big cities anyway? To disappear. I think that was the reason Jason went to Chicago, in the beginning. I knew he didn't love Caroline, he'd told me so. But she was his ticket out of Port Charles and away from his family, so he went with her.   
  
When I got to Port Charles, I took a cab to Zander's apartment building. As I rode, I looked out the window at the trash on the streets and the homeless men and women who lived around the trash. For the first time in months, I was itching to paint. It didn't matter what I painted, just that I painted something. And fast. Dropping me off in front of a run down seven story building, he cabbie charged me ten bucks for the ten minute ride from the bus station. As I walked up the stairs past the drug pushers, I could only pray Zander was home.   
  
The elevator was broken, so I climbed the six flights of stairs to his apartment. The notecard I'd written his address down on said he lived in apartment G, so I turned the corner when I got to the top to look for it. The letter was hanging by a nail on the door, swinging back and forth. I knocked and held my breath, hoping someone was inside to hear me.   
  
I thanked God as I heard a male voice call out from inside. Consciously, I knew this could not be Zander, but I had to think it was. I had to _hope_ it was. He was pulling on his t-shirt when he opened the door, wearing a pair of jeans and bare feet. He studied my face for a minute and I knew he didn't know me.   
  
"Hi…" I said tentatively.   
  
"Do I know you?" he questioned immediately. I watched as he reached around into the waistband of his jeans and I visibly gulped. Was he reaching for a gun?   
  
"I…" I stammered. "We met once, about four years ago." He stared at me blankly. "In Colorado. Denver. It was my birthday." Still, he said nothing. "I didn't think you'd remember me."   
  
"Aunt Cheryl's daughter," he said finally. Then, he smiled. It wasn't warm and friendly, but it was a start. "You look a lot like her and my mother." His eyes ran over me from my sandaled feet, to the overnight bag I carried, and finally he settled on my face again. "What's your name again?"   
  
This was the moment I'd been waiting for. I'd been thinking about my name the entire bus ride over. My parents and sister had called me Lizzie while I lived at home. Stephen had called me Liz. My grandmother and Jason used to call me Elizabeth. Briefly I had considered calling myself that, but I knew I'd hurt too much thinking of the lost friendship. Finally, I settled on a variation of my middle name, even though I hated it.   
  
"Emma," I told him. "Is there any way I could come in and we can talk for a minute?"   
  
Zander smiled at me, warmly this time. He moved from the doorway so I could come into his small apartment. His hand settled on the small of my back and I glanced back at him. His warm brown eyes reassured me. And for the first time in a long time, I knew I'd be okay.


	2. Two Years Later -- Elizabeth

"Em!" Zander called as he banged on the door to her bedroom. "Emma Daniels! Get up right now!" He checked the clock on the wall again and knocked harder. "If you don't leave **right now** you're gonna be late for your last exam!"   
  
She pulled herself from under the covers and stumbled to the door. She opened it to find her over-bearing cousin standing there with the book bag she'd dropped by the door when she got home last night. "Go away, Zander. Who cares about an exam?"   
  
"** You do!**" he yelled at her. "You haven't been working your ass off for two years to complete your Masters degree to give up NOW!"   
  
She knew he was right. Zander was mostly right when it came to things that were right for her. It had been his idea to change her last name, all of those years ago. He had been the one to get her the job bartending at Ditka's in downtown Chicago. He'd done a lot of things for her, and the least she could do was go take this test for him. Especially if it was going to make him happy.   
  
"Ok, ok," she relented. Leaving the door open, she walked back into her bedroom. She stripped off the night shirt and pulled a t-shirt on over the sports bra she was wearing. The pajama bottoms were dropped and she pulled on the black stretch pants she'd worn to work last night. Slipping her feet into a pair of Adidas flops, she reached for a ponytail holder and pulled her shoulder length brown away from her face. "Lemme brush my teeth and I'll be ready."   
  
"Nope," Zander ordered. "You're already late. Here," he said, holding out a stick of gum. "This'll do. No one's gonna be smellin' your breath anyway. But you really should put some deodorant on."   
  
She stopped mid-step and pivoted, going back to her bedroom. Reaching for the stick of Secret she kept on her dresser, she lifted her arm and applied the shower-smelling scent to her under arms. "Thanks cuz."   
  
"No problem." He smiled at her from the doorway. A part of him couldn't believe this was the same stranger who had showed up on his doorstep two years ago. He held out the book bag and said, "Now, c'mon. You're late."   
  
Elizabeth stopped to give him a kiss on the cheek as she took the bag. "I don't know what I'd do without you, you know that right?"   
  
Zander wrapped an arm around her and hugged her to his body. "You'd manage, Emma. People like you and me… we're survivors. You'd do just fine. Now, go knock 'em dead."   
  
Elizabeth pulled back and mock-saluted him. "Yes sir!"   
  
He watched as she sauntered out the door, the book bag slung over her shoulder. Zander hoped she'd pass the exam today. Whether she admitted it or not, he knew she'd been working towards this since she arrived in Chicago. She'd enrolled at DePaul the fall semester and hadn't stopped since. Completing the masters in education program in two years, while bartending at night, and painting in her spare time.   
  
Zander admired his younger cousin. He only knew bits and pieces of what had happened with her parents that caused her to leave, but he knew she was dying inside when she arrived in Chicago. She still held back parts of her life from him. But she was family, his only family, and he couldn't turn her away. He would never turn her away.   
  
Elizabeth stepped out into the bright Chicago day and sighed deeply. It was almost over. Everything she'd wanted for so long was within her grasp.   
  
As she walked to the downtown campus in Chicago, she ran over the things she knew would be on her exam. The course hadn't been easy. It hadn't even been required, but she knew a course in school law would always come in handy. Granted, she wanted to teach elementary school, preferably kindergarten and she wasn't sure why she'd need a Masters degree, but it was something she'd gotten all by herself. She'd worked hard for the money she'd used to pay for school.  
  
There was a moment, right before she left Colorado that she'd considered taking some of her father's money. The safe was _right there_ and she knew the combination, but in the end she couldn't bring herself to take the money. Even though part of her believed he owed her that much for four years of hell, she didn't want to start her new life with his money. In the end, she'd walked away leaving a simple 'Goodbye --Liz' on his desk, hoping they'd get the point she was trying to convey.   
  
As she entered the education building, Elizabeth pushed all thoughts of her former family aside and focused on her upcoming exam. She knew what to expect from the professor, she just hoped she could keep calm during the exam and not forget the things she'd been reviewing for weeks.   
  
Elizabeth slipped into the desk at the front of the room and Professor Gooden smiled as he approached her. "Cutting it close, aren't we Ms. Daniels?" he asked. She knew he was only joking as he sat the exam down on her desk. "You have three hours, Ms. Daniels. Good luck."   
  
She smiled as he walked away and glanced down at the test. Essay format. Three hours, four questions. As her eyes scanned the test, she felt the lump disappear in her throat and the answers became clearer to her. Taking newly sharpened pencils from her bag, she silently thanked Zander, and began writing.   
  
Three hours later, Elizabeth emerged from the building. The May sun was shining brightly as she pulled her sun glasses from her bag. She had to smile to herself, because the test had went well. And she remembered the words Dr. Gooden had told her when she left the exam room. He'd told her to come to him for anything, even if it was just a job recommendation. He thought she had amazing potential to be a teacher and so much more. Lastly, he told her to never give up her dreams.   
  
"Emma!" Elizabeth heard someone yell. She looked to the left and saw Aiden running towards her. She stopped and waited while her ex-boyfriend approached her. "Hi!" he said, out of breath.   
  
"Hey," Elizabeth said coolly. "What can I do for ya?"   
  
"I dunno, Em…" he looked away. "I was hoping that maybe we could get something to eat…a drink, coffee, something?"   
  
"Aiden," she sighed. "We've been through this. No coffee, no drink, no food is going to change the way I feel. It's over," she told him again. In the beginning, she had felt sorry for him. Aiden was an old friend of Zander's and Elizabeth had liked him at first. He'd been dark and broody and she liked that about him. But eventually she realized she was using him as a poor replacement for someone else who was dark and broody. Shortly afterwards, Elizabeth broke the relationship with Aiden off. He just didn't seem to be able to let go.  
  
"Emma," he tried. Reaching up, he brushed the lock of hair out of her eyes. "Why won't you give me a chance?"   
  
"I did," she insisted. "You and I," she pointed between them, "don't work. You have to let go."   
  
"Em, Zander says you aren't dating anyone. So what is it? Why can't you love me?"   
  
"Aiden, just accept it and move on." In truth, that was a question she'd asked herself time and again. Why couldn't she love him? He was handsome and sweet. He made a descent living working at a tech company in Chicago. But she just…couldn't. "I'm tired of having this conversation with you."   
  
"Em–"  
  
"No," she repeated firmly. Turning on her heel, she walked away from him. Elizabeth could hear Aiden calling after her, but she didn't look back. She knew he'd only misread her actions and she was tired of having the same conversation with him. Instead she slipped her sunglasses over her eyes and adjusted the book bag on her shoulders and started the ten minute walk home.   
  
The first thing she wanted to do was take a nap, but since she'd really only just woken up, Elizabeth knew that was out of the question. Instead, she'd probably just take a shower and then discuss the latest Aiden run-in with Zander. He'd promised to get the boy off of her back, but it hadn't happened yet.   
  
Elizabeth trudged uphill, keeping her thoughts to herself. Truthfully, this was the only time she had to herself lately. It was hard to keep things from Zander. After she'd barged into his life, she had a hard time keeping secrets about herself from him. She knew that he knew she hadn't told him everything, but he seemed to be okay with that too.   
  
Elizabeth was so lost in her thoughts, she wasn't paying attention to where she was going, and ended up paying for it by crashing into a guy going the opposite way. Her book bag fell from her shoulder and her keys fell out. At the same time, they leaned down to pick them up and she looked up at him, smiling. "Excuse me, I wasn't watching where I was going."   
  
When the stranger looked up, her breath caught in her throat. After two years in Chicago, she'd seen a lot of men who looked like Jason, but never one with the eyes and the hair. For a moment, she forgot to breathe.   
  
"Miss?" the stranger inquired. "Are you okay?"   
  
Focusing on him, she saw that his highlights weren't natural and he wasn't as tall as Jason. But the eyes… the stranger had the same beautiful blue eyes as Jason did. "I'm sorry—you just, you reminded me of someone I used to know."   
  
"It's no problem," he assured her. Extending his hand, he said, "Name's Josh, and you?"   
  
"Em…Emma," she stammered. Taking his extended hand, she shoved her keys back in her back and looked up. "I'm sorry, I really have to go."   
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes," she said, thinking quickly, she added, "My boyfriend… he's waiting for me."   
  
She watched the stranger's face fall and then nodded quickly. As she walked past him, she really had to wonder if he thought picking someone up on the street would really be that easy? Shaking the encounter off, she continued walking down the block until she came to her apartment building and turned the corner.   
  
Elizabeth breezed by the elevator that stayed broken and headed for the stairs. Over two years, the six flights of stairs had come relatively easy to her. As she started unlocking the door, she felt Zander on the other side turning the locks and helping her. He pulled the door as she pushed and smiled when she entered. "How'd it go?"  
  
"It…went," she said offhandedly. "It was a test, no biggie."   
  
"'No biggie'? 'No biggie!?'" he repeated. "I can't _believe_ you! We've been preparing for this test for _weeks_ and you say it was 'no biggie'!?"   
  
"Zander," she smirked. "Chill. It went okay. Dr. Gooden pulled me aside after the exam and told me if I needed anything, he'd be happy to help. And I think I'm gonna start the job search tomorrow."   
  
"Public school is getting _out_ in two weeks," he reminded her. "Why so soon?"   
  
"Schools fill their positions quickly. Plus, I want to get something in the neighborhood, I don't think I wanna take the el to work everyday. And since neither of us have a car, walking distance is a good thing."   
  
He studied her for a minute and finally nodded. "Sounds like a plan, Emmy."   
  
"Ugh!" she exclaimed as she walked past him. "You know I hate it when you call me that."   
  
He turned and watched her through the open bedroom door. She stripped off the t-shirt and stood there in her sports bra. "I know, why do you think I enjoy it so much?"   
  
Turning, she smiled at him. "You're a brat, you know that right?"   
  
"Yep."   
  
Elizabeth sank down on the bed and began pulling the jeans off. "Speaking of brats, I ran into Aiden on campus."   
  
"Oh?"   
  
"Yeah… it was the same shit, different day. He wanted to get some food, a drink, coffee. He's not gonna leave me alone, is he?"   
  
Zander came in the room and sat down on the bed next to her. She pulled the bathrobe off the floor and wrapped it around her. "He likes you, Em. Why won't you give him a chance? You know he's a decent guy."   
  
"I know… it's just…" she trailed off.  
  
"It's just?" Zander prompted. He studied her profile for a minute, then sighed. "He doesn't make your heart jump into your throat. He doesn't leave you hanging on every word. He doesn't make you believe in love, does he?"   
  
Shaking her head sadly, Elizabeth said, "Nope. None of the above."   
  
"You're never gonna give up on him, are ya?" he asked.   
  
"Who?"   
  
"Your guy from Port Charles… what's his name?" Closing his eyes briefly, he concentrated on the story she'd once told him. "Jason."   
  
"This has _nothing_ to do with Jason," Elizabeth informed him. "Jason was the first best friend I ever had. That's _all_. Plus, he's somewhere with his Caroline."   
  
Zander wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. "Emmy, that was five years ago. You don't know where he is. Who knows… he could be somewhere, looking for you."   
  
"Pshht!"   
  
"You never know."   
  
"Zander, you're forgetting that he has a kid. I'm the _last_ thing on his mind. I doubt he'd even know my name anymore."   
  
They sat in silence as her words washed over them. Elizabeth hoped it wasn't true. She didn't want to believe Jason had forgotten her and the times they'd had together. It was true that he'd lost most of the memories they'd had together, but she felt like they had rebuilt their relationship before she left for Denver.   
  
"I could have someone find him," Zander offered finally.   
  
Elizabeth pulled her knee up under her and turned to face him. "You're serious."   
  
"Yeah," he nodded, "I am. It's just… I honestly believe that he's the guy for you, Emmy. And I don't think you'll ever be free until you find out."   
  
"Zan, I've been free since the moment I left Denver."   
  
"You say that. But you're not." Zander placed two fingers over her heart and thumped. "You're not free in here, no matter what you say. At least I could look."   
  
Slowly, she nodded her head. "I guess we could try… I mean, it couldn't hurt." Elizabeth leaned over and laid her head on his shoulder. "I wonder what Jason is up to these days."   
  
Zander laid his head on top of hers and took her hand in his. "You never know," he told her, "he could be somewhere looking for you too."


	3. Two Years Later -- Jason

Jason shrugged off the leather jacket as soon as he entered their apartment. It was May, but the weather in Chicago had been especially crazy this year. The forecasters were all blaming it on El Nino, but he knew he was still enjoying the colder weather. In fact, it was the only thing he missed about Port Charles.   
  
Next, he rolled the sleeves to his shirt up and went to the bathroom to wash his hands. Right before he left work, he'd been working on an old Harley, trying to get the engine to turn over. Jason tried everything he knew, but the bike still wasn't working. His t-shirt and jeans were covered in grease because he'd once again forgot to put coveralls on. Jason cupped his hands under the faucet and brought the water up, splashing his face. He turned the water off and reached for a towel hanging by the mirror.   
  
For a minute, Jason studied his face. His eyes always drifted to the scar on his forehead and it would make him think of his family in Port Charles. But then Port Charles made him think of Carly, and that was always painful for him. Since she'd left him, he had spoken a few times with his family. Emily even came to visit him often. Jason knew his relationship with the Quartermaines would never be wonderful, but they had softened towards him after they met Michael. Emily told him it was something about grandchildren that healed old wounds.   
  
Jason left the light on in the bathroom as he started down the hall. He knew Michael had to be asleep. He'd been here almost five minutes and his son hadn't come barreling at his knees crying 'daddy' yet. Not that Jason minded their everyday ritual. In fact, it seemed odd to him Michael hadn't come yet, unless he was sleeping.   
  
"Tara?" Jason asked softly. He knocked on Michael's bedroom door, but the babysitter didn't answer. "Tara?" he said a little louder. Still no answer. He opened the door and frowned, Michael wasn't in his room.   
  
Jason retraced his steps into the living room, then checked the kitchen. No Tara or Michael. Going back to the living room, he checked the locks to make sure no one had broken in. Everything looked normal. "Tara! Michael!" he yelled. No answer.   
  
At this point, Jason was more than a little worried. A thousand things were racing through his mind, as he re-searched each room in the apartment for his son. At last he came to his own bedroom, where the door was shut. He held his breath and opened the door, sighing in relief when he saw the little boy and his babysitter were both asleep on Jason's bed. On the bed sat an open shoebox from his closet and letters and pictures were scattered between the two sleeping figures.   
  
"Tara," Jason whispered, shaking the teenager into consciousness. Her eyes popped open and she pulled back from him. "Hey, hey. It's okay. It's just me."   
  
Recognition washed over her as she smiled up at him. "Hey Jason." Her fists rubbed the sleep from her eyes and she flashed him a shy smile, a coy glance through her lashes.   
  
Jason crossed his arms over his chest and frowned down at her. "Is there a reason you're in here?"   
  
Tara's eyes widened as she looked at the mess she and Michael made with the shoebox. Immediately she started shoving the letters and pictures back into it, hastily placing the top back on it. "Michael wanted to look at a picture of his mother. I thought…" she trailed off looking away from him.  
  
"You _thought_?" Jason prompted.  
  
Tara chewed on her bottom lip as she looked back at him. "He's never asked me about her before, Jason. I've never heard him ask you about her, so I thought it'd be a good project. I think because Mother's Day just passed he was kind of curious. Anyway, I thought maybe you'd have some stuff of her's in one of those boxes you kept." Tara reached down and lifted the box and pulled out a picture. "This is her, isn't it?"   
  
Jason studied the picture she held in her hand and frowned. "No. It's not." Jason crossed to his dresser and pulled open his top drawer. He reached under his socks and searched for the envelope he kept, along with the empty jewelry box. Finally he found it and pulled it out. Inside were the only pictures of Carly he had. One of them was taken before they left Port Charles, another in front of their first house in Chicago, then finally a picture of Carly holding Michael in the hospital. "_This_ is Michael's mother." He held the last picture out to Tara.  
  
Her fingers traced over the face of baby Michael and his mother. She was a beautiful woman and Tara couldn't stop herself from asking, "Did she—is she dead, Jason?"   
  
"I don't know," he answered. Looking away, Jason swallowed visibly. This was probably the _last_ thing he wanted to talk about, especially with his baby-sitter. "She left after Michael was born. We haven't heard from her in five years."   
  
The babysitter covered her mouth with her hand at his admission. "Jason…I'm sorry."   
  
He waved off her apologies and reached for his wallet in his back pocket. "You didn't know. You couldn't have known, Tara. Now you do." As he fished for a fifty dollar bill so he could pay the girl, he looked over at his sleeping child and sighed. "Since he's asking about her, I think it's time I tell him what happened." He pressed the money into her hand. "I was late today. Thanks for staying."   
  
"I was asleep, so it doesn't count." Tara flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder and smiled at him. She reached out and placed a hand on his arm and rubbed it softly. "Thank you for telling me about Michael's mother, Jason."   
  
Jason nodded, his eyes never leaving the form of his sleeping child. "I'm home now, so if you need to go... I'll see ya on Monday, Tara."   
  
She pulled back from him then, and walked to the other side of the bed to get her book bag. "Michael's preschool teacher sent stuff home, it's in his bag. I'll see ya Monday morning, Mr. Morgan."   
  
He nodded a goodbye, but he was already thinking of what he would tell Michael. He knew the child wouldn't understand. Hell, he didn't understand half the time. Jason dropped the tear-stained envelope on the nightstand and sat down on his bed. He studied the child for a minute, smiling to himself. Jason wondered how Michael would take the news that his mother was gone and wouldn't be coming back for him ever. But at the same time, Jason wanted Michael to know that Carly did love him. For the only time in her life, she had loved someone more than she loved herself.   
  
Pushing those thoughts aside, he pulled the open shoebox towards him and began going through the things there. This was his 'Elizabeth' box. The pictures they'd taken while together in Port Charles, the letter's she'd written him, things she'd bought him, or given to him. He even had an old, worn out tape she would play for him in the hospital. Sighing, he pulled the picture out and studied their smiling faces. Things had been so simple then. He had been young and struggling, but Elizabeth knew exactly what he needed, when he needed it.   
  
Jason reached for the envelope on top, the last letter she'd written him and pulled the paper from the envelope. The letter came the same day Carly left. He had meant to read it, and meant to write her back. But while everything was happening, it had been pushed aside, unopened. When he'd finally discovered it years later, he'd tried to write her at her parents' house in Colorado. All of the letters were sent back stamped 'no forwarding address' and he knew he'd lost her.   
  
Jason took the soft white paper from its home and unfolded it. Her flowing handwriting covered the front page and last of the half. She wrote to him about Denver and school. She told him things he knew she never told anyone. How she longed to leave her parents house and Colorado. How she wished she could go back to Port Charles and things could be the way they were.   
  
Then she began talking about how fortunate he was to have found Carly. How she was so happy they were going to have a baby and how she was sure he'd be a wonderful father. Jason smiled at the confidence she had in him as he read. Elizabeth believed in him, he knew that. Finishing up the letter, she told him how she missed him and hoped they'd be able to get together again someday. How he was the best friend she ever had and that she loved him. And as she always did, she closed the letter telling him about something she and Jason Quartermaine once did.   
  
It used to bother him when people would tell him about Jason Q, but with Elizabeth it always seemed she was telling him about a friend she'd lost. He knew she didn't see him as the same person. She missed the closeness she shared with Jason Quartermaine, but she felt the same connection to Jason Morgan. The first time she'd told him that, he'd looked at her like she was crazy. But somewhere deep down, he understood it. It was the same way with his sister and Lila. The connection was instant and deep. Jason sighed again and paused, both seeing and not seeing the letter before folding it and slipping it back in the envelope.   
  
As he always did when he thought about Elizabeth, he pulled out the slip of paper with her telephone number in Colorado on it. Sometimes he wanted to call the number, just to see if she would answer the phone. Or maybe just to see if someone would answer the phone. He'd almost called a thousand times in the last two years, sometimes getting as far as dialing everything but the last number. Part of him wanted to believe she was still in Colorado and she'd sent his letter back because she was angry that he'd stopped writing. He knew he was wrong, though, because Elizabeth wasn't like that.   
  
Without even realizing he was doing it, Jason reached for the phone on the nightstand. His fingers began dialing the number he'd long ago memorized and he cradled the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he listened to it ring. After four rings, someone finally answered. _"The Webber residence."_  
  
"Oh," Jason said. He thought about hanging up, but he knew he couldn't. This was his chance. "May I speak to Elizabeth?" he asked.   
  
_"One moment,"_ the person told him.   
  
Jason gulped as he waited for Elizabeth to come to the phone. He felt his heart beating in his throat and his palms started to get sweaty. He wiped them off on his jeans and picked the picture of her up to study it.   
  
_"Hello, this is Jeff Webber,"_ a very male voice said.   
  
"I'm sorry," Jason started. "I wanted to speak with Elizabeth, your daughter."   
  
_"__Elizabeth__ doesn't live here,"_ Jeff told him. _"She hasn't lived here in two years, Mister. May I ask who's calling?"_  
  
"I'm a friend from Port Charles," Jason told him. "Elizabeth and I grew up together. I just…" he sighed. Looking down at the wrinkled number in his lap, he laughed half-heartedly. "I found some letters Elizabeth sent me and her phone number. I thought I'd try to call her, but it's been about five years since I've heard from her. I'm sorry, Mr. Webber."   
  
_"__Elizabeth__ ran away from home,"_ Jeff confided.   
  
Silence rang on the line for a long time before Jason finally asked, "Do you know where she is? I'd like to see her again."   
  
_"I'm sorry, Mister…what did you say your name was again? __Elizabeth__ left two years ago and it's like she disappeared into thin air. Please don't call here again."_ Then the phone went dead.   
  
Jason stared at the receiver in his hand before finally hanging it up. She ran away? Questions raced through his mind as he thought of his old friend. Jason looked down when he felt someone tug on his shirt and smiled at his now-awake son.   
  
"Daddy," Michael said happily. "When'd you get here?"   
  
"A little while," Jason answered. He scooped the child into his arms and hugged him tightly. "You were asleep, so I sent Tara home. That okay, buddy?"   
  
Michael nodded against his shoulder and his arms tightened around his father's neck. When he pulled back, he situated himself in Jason's lap and smiled up at him. "I'm glad your home."   
  
"Did you not have a good time with Tara, Michael?"   
  
"It was okay…" he sighed. "I just miss you when you aren't here, Daddy."   
  
Tears sprung to Jason's eyes at his son's admission. "I miss you too, buddy. But guess what? We have the whole weekend together. We've got lots of time to hang out together."   
  
Michael smiled brightly at him. He looked down on the bed and saw the picture of Elizabeth Jason had been holding and pointed at it. "Is that Mommy, Daddy?"   
  
Jason followed his chubby fingers and shook his head, "No, that's Daddy's old friend from Port Charles, Michael. I was just trying to call her before you woke up."   
  
Michael reached up and touched his father's face and nodded. "Daddy, where's Mommy?"   
  
Inwardly, he sighed at the question. Outwardly he offered his son a sad smile. Jason wrapped one arm around Michael and hugged him, reaching for the envelope on the nightstand with his other hand. "Mommy left when you were a baby, Michael. I have some pictures of her that you can look at. And she wanted me to read this letter to you when you were old enough."   
  
The child reached for the picture of Carly holding him in the hospital. He looked up at his father's face, his blue eyes wide, "Dad, is that me?"   
  
Jason nodded his head. "You were three hours old, Michael. You were just a tiny baby."   
  
"Are there any more pictures of me and Mommy?"   
  
Jason shook his head sadly. "Mommy left when you were five days old, Michael."   
  
"Why?"   
  
"I don't know, buddy. She left Daddy too."   
  
Michael's lip trembled as he studied his father's face. "Didn't she love me, Daddy?"   
  
Jason's heart broke at his small words. He pulled Michael's small body to his and hugged him tightly. "Yes," he whispered fiercely into his hair, "she loved you. Very much, Michael. She loved you more than she loved anyone."   
  
"Even you?" Michael questioned.   
  
"Yes, even me." Jason pulled Michael back so he could look into his face. "I don't know why Mommy left, Michael. I know she loved you and I'm sorry she left." His emotions were getting the better of him as the tears began to leak from his eyes.   
  
"Don't cry," the child whispered. Reaching up, he wiped his father's tears away. "I'm here, Daddy. Don't cry."   
  
He quickly controlled himself so he wouldn't scare his son and smiled. "I know, Michael. And I'm here for you. We'll never be alone. I'll never leave you, I promise."   
  
Michael nodded his head at his father. "I know, Daddy. I love you."   
  
Jason's smile lit up his whole face as his heart exploded at the words. "I love you too, buddy."   
  
Michael's next question took him completely off guard, though. "Daddy, can we get a new Mommy?"   
  
Over the years, Jason had dated a little. But it seemed women didn't want a brain damaged man with a young son to take care of. Too much baggage, he figured. Instead of telling his son he didn't think he'd ever have a mother, Jason nodded his head. "Maybe someday, Michael." Even though he knew it probably wasn't true, Jason excused his lie when he saw the smile on his son's face. "You hungry, Michael?" Jason asked, wanting to change the subject.  
  
The child nodded eagerly.   
  
"What do you want to eat?" Jason stood from the bed, but held the child in his arms. He started towards their small kitchen and sat him on the counter when he got there. Jason moved to the cabinets and began opening them, seeing what he could cook for dinner. "How about this?" he asked, as he held out the blue box.   
  
"Mac and cheese!" Michael exclaimed. "Oh please, Dad! Can we have mac and cheese?"   
  
Even as he reached for the pot and began to fill it with water, he turned to study his son. "I don't know. What're you going to give me?"   
  
Michael giggled and said, "C'mere daddy." When Jason got close enough, Michael grabbed him and began to kiss his face. After he was sure he'd kissed him all over, he pulled back. "Please Daddy?"   
  
Jason nodded his head and began to pour the macaroni noodles into the water and put it on the stove. When he was finished, he came back to his son and hugged him again. Briefly Jason thought of Carly, but he could only hope she knew what she was missing out on. Mostly while he stood in the kitchen hugging Michael, he thought that things were finally how they were supposed to be.


	4. Found

_Four Months Later_  
  
"Bye Zan!" Elizabeth called as she pulled the door closed behind her. Standing there for a minute, she glanced down and smoothed her white t-shirt over her jean skirt. She wiggled her toes through then opening in her sandals and had to smile to herself. "C'mon Ms. Daniels, before you're late."   
  
Elizabeth started down the hall and turned the corner to take the stairs down to the building exit. She shifted the book bag on her shoulder and started her three block walk to her new school. Elizabeth couldn't remember ever being so excited to start school. Of course, today wasn't the students' first day, but it was the teachers'. They were going to be in development all day, then they'd be shown their classrooms. She was also going to meet her teaching assistant and be given her class role.   
  
The walk went by quickly in the morning sun. The streets were filling with people going to work, and college students back to school, but she easily avoided them. Twelve minutes after leaving her apartment, Elizabeth stood in front of Louisa May Alcott School nervously wiping her palms on her jean skirt. Slowly, she climbed the steps in front of the school and smiled at the security guard stopped to match her ID number with the one on his list.  
  
"We can never be too safe these days," he told her as he handed her the license back.   
  
Elizabeth nodded and smiled at him. He held the door open as she walked past him. "I'll see ya later," she called behind her.   
  
She followed the signs to the main office where she knew she was supposed to sign in. Waiting for her was an office aide to take her to the auditorium where the other teachers were already starting to gather.   
  
As they walked through halls together, Elizabeth couldn't help but be amazed at how big the school was. "How many students go to school here?" she inquired.   
  
The aide smiled at her. "About two thousand," she told her. "My name's Kate. What about you?"   
  
"Emma Daniels," Elizabeth answered. "Did you grow up in Chicago?"   
  
Kate shook her head. "I'm from the west coast. But my husband is from Chicago, I followed him here. What about you?"   
  
"Me neither," she admitted. "I grew up on the east coast, in New York state. Then I moved to Colorado for college."   
  
"Why Chicago?"   
  
"My cousin lives here," Elizabeth answered easily. "We share an apartment a few blocks from here. I've been here about two years now."   
  
"Six months," Kate compared. She held out her left hand and showed off the diamond ring and wedding band that rested on her ring finger. "We've been married for about nine, though. Still kind of in that honeymooning phase." As they turned the corner, Kate could hear the teachers buzzing in the auditorium as she showed Elizabeth the way into the room. They found a seat towards the back of the auditorium and sat. "What about you? Engaged? Married? Lifetime partner?"   
  
Elizabeth blushed at her last suggestion. "No, no, and no. Besides Zander, and now you, I know about five people in Chicago. I like it that way. I've been completing my Masters, so I haven't had a lot of time to have a life," she admitted. "Hopefully that'll be changing soon."   
  
Kate nodded at her, before turning her attention to the stage where the principal was standing in front of the microphone.  
  
Elizabeth smiled to herself as the principal began to welcome them to Louisa May Alcott for a new school year. She began to feel like she had finally arrived.   
  


~*~

  
Her classroom was huge. There were windows open along the back of the room, giving them a view of the playground. Her desk sat in a corner next to a window and in front of the back door. There were six large, circular tables with five chairs at them each for the students. They were arranged in two rows, but Elizabeth knew immediately she would change that. Behind the second row of desks was the desk of the teacher aide. From the looks of a book bag and a brown lunch bag on the desk, she had already arrived.   
  
Elizabeth dropped her bag on the floor and took her lunch from it. She situated herself at one of the round tables and began to unpack the lunch she and Zander had made together. He told her his mom had made this same lunch for him on his first day of school: peanut butter and jelly, an apple, and a can of apple juice. But, Zander had also slipped some brownies into her bag for dessert.   
  
As he told her the story, Elizabeth had to wonder if he was missing Joyce. The woman never came to visit them, or else she knew her parents would be banging their door down to get to her. Zander usually made it to Florida to see his mother and stepfather three times a year. Elizabeth thought about maybe suggesting he take a trip down there some weekend. Even if they couldn't really afford to pay for the trip, Elizabeth knew they would manage. She made a mental note to suggest it to him later that night.   
  
She'd just taken the first bite of her sandwich when she heard a knock on her door. Turning around with her mouth full of peanut butter and jelly, she met her new assistant. And he wasn't a she.   
  
"Hi. Ms. Daniels, right?" the man asked as he entered the room.   
  
Elizabeth nodded her head and finished chewing her sandwich carefully. The last thing she wanted do was choke in front of him. Reaching for her juice, she took a long swallow and cleaned her teeth with her tongue before she spoke. "Emma," she told him. "And you are?"   
  
"Jake Rosen, your assistant." He reached up and adjusted his black glasses and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I'm guessing from the look on your face you were expecting someone else."   
  
"No, no," she hurried on. "Just someone very…"  
  
"Female."   
  
Elizabeth blushed, then nodded. "You caught me. Yes, I was expecting someone very female." She ran her eyes over him before she said, "And you're obviously not."   
  
"Nope," he kidded her. "One-hundred ten percent male."   
  
Jake crossed to the room and grabbed his lunch bag from his desk and made his way back from Elizabeth. He dropped the folder he'd come into the room with between them and sat down. "That's your class roll. Twenty six students."   
  
"Wow." Elizabeth turned to look at him and smiled. "That's a lot. This is my first year."   
  
"I know," he nodded. "You just completed your Masters at DePaul, worked at night as a bartender at Ditka's, and you live with your cousin."   
  
Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow at him.   
  
"I've been a TA for years and the principal lets me choose who I want to work with, but it's usually a first year teacher. Dr. Smith is a nice woman, but she had a little more vested in you than the other first year teachers."   
  
"Oh?"   
  
Jake nodded. "Her full name is Rena Smith-Gooden. Ring a bell?"   
  
"Dr. Gooden," Elizabeth said. She smiled faintly at the memory of her professor. "Okay, it's making sense now. So my new boss is married to my old education professor? Anything else I should know?"   
  
Jake began unpacking his lunch from his bag and shook his head. "Not that I know of. Dr. Smith just sat down and told me some of what her husband had told her. You've already got some important people on your side, Ms. Daniels–"  
  
"Emma," Elizabeth repeated. "When the students aren't around, call me Emma."   
  
Jake nodded. "That's a beautiful name."   
  
"I used to hate it," she admitted. "Kind of… grew on me, I guess you could say."   
  
"I see."   
  
Elizabeth reached for the folder he sat down between them and pulled out the roll sheet. She scanned over the names and began to feel giddy inside again. Fourteen boys, twelve girls. "We're gonna have our hands full," she said to him. Elizabeth glanced up at him and found him watching her. "What?" she asked. Immediately Elizabeth's hand went to her face, "Do I have peanut butter on me or something?"   
  
"No, no," he shook his head. Jake pushed his chair back and moved away from Elizabeth. He dropped his uneaten lunch on his desk and pulled out the chair. "Just forget it," he told her.  
  
Elizabeth nodded as she glanced back down on the list. She studied each name, committing them to memory. In just two days, she would have a face to go with the name. She continued to eat her lunch as she studied the names.   
  
She was eating the brownie when she reached the middle of the list. Elizabeth's eyes widened when she read the name of a complete stranger, yet it felt so familiar to her. _Michael R. Morgan_, the paper said. "Jake?" she called over her shoulder.  
  
"Yeah?"   
  
Elizabeth closed her eyes and did the math in her head. Jason's son would be about five now, and if Jason was still living in Chicago... It couldn't be, yet she couldn't help but hope that it was. "Is there anyway I can see a child's folder? Or is that against the rules?"   
  
"What's the problem, Emma?" he asked, getting up from his desk. Already, he was going to the filing cabinet and pulling out the drawer with the student files.   
  
"It's just…there's a kid on here. His name is the same as the child of an old friend of mine. I wanted to see if it's…" she trailed off. "Will you just look for Michael Morgan?"   
  
Jake silently went through the files until he found what she was looking for. He brought it over to the table and sat it down in front of her. Jake stood back as he watched Elizabeth close her eyes, say something to herself, then open the student's file.   
  
In the folder was a picture from preschool of a small boy with red hair. His eyes were blue, but she couldn't tell if they matched Jason's in the picture. The picture was stapled to an information sheet about the child. In the space above _father_, was the name _Jason Morgan_. The space above _mother_ was left blank. Elizabeth continued scanning the page until she found an address and phone number, and she found he'd lived two blocks from her the entire time she'd been in Chicago.   
  
"I can't…believe it," she muttered. "After all this time, I think I found him."   
  
"Emma?" Jake asked. He placed a hand on her shoulder to offer some comfort. "What's wrong?"   
  
Elizabeth pointed to Jason's name and looked at Jake. "I grew up with him, in New York. We swore…" she felt the lump growing in her throat and tried to force it back down. "We promised we'd always be friends, even after I left. I haven't heard from him in five years. He just…vanished. But he has a son, named Michael Morgan, or at least that's what he was going to name him. Michael would be about the same age as this child." Elizabeth focused on the page again, seeing the empty space beside of his mother's name. "But, this probably isn't him. Jason and Caroline were getting married, but this child doesn't have a mother."   
  
Jake nodded quietly, but took the folder from her. She didn't see him slip the sheet of paper out of the folder, then leave the room to walk down the hall. He entered the copy room and made a copy of the paper for her. While he was there, he glanced at the clock and saw that it was already after two. Only twenty more minutes and they could leave. Quickly Jake made his way back to their classroom and dropped the paper in front of Emma.   
  
She studied it for a moment, before folding it in fourth's and sliding it into her bag. "Thank you," she told him. "I just…I have to know, you know?"   
  
Jake nodded his head in agreement. "I understand."   
  
"Thank you," she nodded. Elizabeth turned away from him as she went back to the roll and began studying the other students' names. But still her eyes drifted back to the middle of the roll where the little boy's name was. Closing her eyes, Elizabeth felt the hope flood her.   
  


~*~

  
"Emma!" Zander yelled as he entered the apartment. "EM!" he called again. Going straight to her room, he began knocking on her door. After a minute, she opened, obviously just dressed.   
  
"Sorry," she muttered. Going back to her room, Elizabeth began to flip through the clothes in her closet.   
  
"Going somewhere?" Zander questioned. He looked around her room at the scattered clothes and shoes and smiled inwardly. Emma was usually so organized and he knew she'd grumble about having to clean up later. "I've got something for you," he told her.  
  
Elizabeth stopped and turned on her heel to face him. "I have news too. But you go first."   
  
Zander opened his wallet and pulled out a slip of paper. "Jerry called me this morning with an address. Seems there's a Jason Morgan and son living not too far from here. Been there about five years. Before he moved into the apartment, he lived in a house in the suburbs where you used to write letters."   
  
Elizabeth's eyes widened and she knew for sure she'd found him. "I…" she went to her book bag on the bed and pulled out the information sheet for Michael Morgan. Thrusting it at him, she said, "Here. Read." She stood patiently as he skimmed the page about the child.   
  
Zander looked up and his eyes locked with hers. "What're you going to do?"   
  
"I'm going over there!" she exclaimed. "I want to know why he stopped writing me, I want to know…" Elizabeth sank down on to the bed. "I want to know a thousand things about him, Zander. I _have_ to know about him."  
  
Zander sat down beside her and hugged her for support. "Do you think it's wise, Emmy? It's been five years. Maybe… maybe he's forgotten. Maybe he didn't write for a reason."   
  
"No!" she exclaimed. Turning to face him, she shook her head. "There's no way, Zan. You don't know Jason. He's…the most loyal guy I've ever met, and he doesn't have a lot of friends. He wouldn't turn his back on the friends he _does_ have."   
  
"What if his girlfriend, or wife, or whatever she is, demanded he stopped writing you?"   
  
Elizabeth took the paper from him and pointed to the space beside mother. "It's possible, I agree. But I know she's not with him now, helping him raise his son."   
  
Zander sighed. He dragged a hand over his face and shook his head. "I can't talk you out of this, can I?"   
  
"You were the one who not four months ago told me you thought he was the guy for me. I'm this close to finding him, and now you think it's a bad idea!? I'm not understanding, Zander."   
  
"Emmy," he said calmly, "settle down. Yes, I think it's great that you've found him. I want you to get your old friend back… but what if he doesn't want you back?"   
  
Elizabeth closed her eyes and sighed heavily. When she opened them, she was more determined to go to Jason's apartment as soon as possible. Standing, she grabbed her ID, some money, and Michael's registration sheet before she slipped her sandals back on. She ran a brush through her hair before she turned back to Zander. "It's possible that he doesn't, Zander. But _I_ have to know."   
  
Zander sat on the bed until he heard the apartment door slam. At this point, he could only hope she knew what she was doing.


	5. Memories

Elizabeth pushed out the doors of the apartment building and started north towards Lincoln Avenue and the building on Michael's information sheet. She was walking as fast as she could, trying to work out the excess energy she had at the moment. It seemed that things were happening so fast, but she wasn't having time to live through them.  
  
She hated fighting with Zander. Which was why they usually never fought. Or if they did, they always made up immediately. But now…he told her months ago she should try to find Jason, she was so close, and now he thought it was a bad idea. She didn't get it.   
  
Was he afraid Jason would take his spot in her life? It…it wasn't going to happen. Zander was her brother, her cousin, her best friend, pretty much her everything. He'd been the only person she could rely on besides herself. She didn't know what she would have done without Zander helping her. If you asked him, he would say she would have made it, but Elizabeth knew that wasn't true.   
  
Elizabeth turned the corner onto Lincoln Avenue and started walking faster. The thoughts were racing at her and she tried to squash the excitement inside her. Checking the address again, she thought she knew a short cut and turned towards the park. By the time she reached a park bench, Elizabeth was shaking with emotion and she sat down. Placing her hands in her head, she sat there trying to collect her thoughts.   
  
_"I don't remember you," he snapped. "Stop trying to make me remember."  
  
__Elizabeth__ approached his hospital bed, but stayed far enough away that he couldn't touch her. "That's just it, Jason. I don't _want_ you to remember. You say my friend is gone and not coming back?" __Elizabeth__ pressed a hand to her chest and sighed. "I can accept that. Jason Quartermaine was the first best friend I ever had, but I don't want you to be him. Be who you want to be, Jason. But don't kick out the people in your life who love you."   
  
Jason squeezed his eyes closed and willed the tears away. He was…angry at everyone, and at himself. "They don't love **me**," he insisted. "They love him, and I'm **not** him."   
  
Slowly she approached his side and reached out to touch his arm. __Elizabeth__ leaned over and pressed a hand to his cheek and smiled warmly. "Aren't you listening to me? I don't want you to be someone you're not. To me…you're just Jason."  
  
"I don't…I don't understand."   
  
"It's like this," she smiled. __Elizabeth__ sat down next to him and took his hand in hers. "I'll love you no matter who you are. If you love me back, fine. If not, that's fine too. But I'll always be here, no matter what."_  
  
A sob broke from her chest and her resolve crumbled. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around herself. Elizabeth could feel eyes on her as people passed by. She cried for herself, for the friendship lost, and for Jason.   
  
_"Why're you crying?" he asked. Jason had woken to find Elizabeth sitting on his hospital bed, her silent tears escaping from her eyes. "What's wrong __Elizabeth__? You can tell me." He reached for the bed controls and raised the back up so he was in a semi-sitting position.  
  
__Elizabeth__ shook her head and let him pull her into a hug. His hand smoothed up and down her back, and he kept whispering "shh" into her ear. After a moment, she realized that she shouldn't be letting him comfort her when he was lying there in a hospital bed.  
  
She pulled back slightly, but his arm wouldn't let her go far. Instead of looking him in the face, she studied the edging of his gown. Her fingers played with his hospital blanket and she could feel his thumb stroking her back, but still she wouldn't look at him.  
  
"__Elizabeth__, please…"   
  
She sucked in a breath at his plea and finally looked up at him through spiked, wet lashes. Incredibly, her pain was reflected in his eyes, and something inside her fluttered when his gaze followed her tears as they dried on her lips.  
  
With their faces inches apart, Jason couldn't resist lifting his hand to her face to wipe her tears away. He hated to see her cry, and hated more the reason _for_ her tears. When her tongue swept over her lips, it lightly grazed the pad of his thumb, and he couldn't stop the digit from gently tracing the soft pillow of her lower lip.  
  
She looked up at him with soft, wet eyes and he saw something he couldn't identify.  
  
She sighed his name mere seconds before he drew her to him. Her lips tasted like salt and strawberry lip gloss when he raked his tongue over top lip. Her hand curled into his gown, clinging desperately to him, as though he would leave her forever.  
  
Before they could get too caught up in their emotions, __Elizabeth__ covered his hand with hers and pulled away. She studied the back of his hand while Jason took a moment to extract himself from the moment.   
  
Jason refused to let her put physical distance between them. He shifted over in the bed, making room for her to sit next to him. When she reluctantly rested her head on his shoulder, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer.  
  
"You and I…" he began. "I thought Keesha was my girlfriend."   
  
"She is—was," she told him. "You and I were just friends."   
  
"But," he began. Jason tightened his arm around her and searched for the words to tell her he was sure he'd never felt so right in his life. "Did he ever kiss you?" he finally asked.   
  
__Elizabeth__ snickered, "I wasn't his type."   
  
Jason laughed a little then said, "He must have been blind."   
  
_The memory of their first, and only, faded away from her and Elizabeth felt her tears began to slow. Her body stopped shaking as things began to slow down for her. Elizabeth opened her palm and studied the wrinkled slip of paper she held. Was Zander right? Would he really turn her away?   
  
There was only one way to find out…  
  
__

_~*~_

_  
_Jason was in the kitchen when he heard the knock on the door. He reached for the CD player and turned the soft music down some. Michael was sleeping on the couch, last time he checked. Jason checked the clock and saw that it was after six, and he wasn't expecting anyone.  
  
He dropped the dish cloth over his shoulder as he went to answer it. Figuring it was Tara and that she had forgotten something, he turned the lock and opened the door, then immediately turned away to return to the kitchen. "Whatcha need, Tara?"   
  
He turned around when Tara didn't answer right away, and found a young woman standing in his doorway with her head down, obviously upset. His gaze drifted down to her feet and back up her body. "Excuse me?" he asked. "Can I help you?"   
  
Elizabeth lifted her head and pushed her hair out of her face. She wiped the tears from her eyes and took a step forward. "Jason?" she asked.   
  
Recognition flooded him as he crossed the room in two steps. Bending down, Jason brought himself eye level to her, but still he couldn't believe. He reached out to touch her hair and sighed at it's familiarity. "Elizabeth?"   
  
She slowly nodded her head. "I…I'm your son's kindergarten teacher, Jason."   
  
"Her name is Emma," Jason answered. He pulled back and crossed to the kitchen where the letter from the school was waiting. "Emma Daniels, I think."   
  
Elizabeth nodded and pulled her ID from her back pocket and handed it to him. "I changed my name…I left home."   
  
"I know," Jason answered. "I called your house and I spoke with your father. He told me you ran away. To Chicago, Elizabeth?"   
  
She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. "I live with my cousin."   
  
"In Chicago?"   
  
She nodded again. Elizabeth looked around his small apartment and motioned towards the living room. "Maybe we should sit down?"   
  
Jason ushered her completely into the apartment before he shut the door. When he turned, Elizabeth was kneeling down next to Michael, studying him as he slept. "He—he was a little late with his nap today, so he passed out after dinner."   
  
She nodded before she sat down in the chair. She watched as Jason sat next to his son on the couch and smiled inwardly. "My cousin told me you've been living here for five years."   
  
Jason nodded. "You're cousin seems to know a lot about me."   
  
"He offered to find you for me, except," she said, holding out Michael's registration sheet, "you sort of found me at the same time I found you. Then Zander found you, too."   
  
"I see."   
  
"You stopped writing," Elizabeth rushed on. "I would have…I would have come to you, instead of Zander, if I'd known where you were. I just…I didn't have anything to go on, Jason. I hadn't heard from you in three years. I kinda thought you forgot about me."   
  
"I didn't," he told her. "The last letter I got from you came on the day Carly left. It got pushed aside and when I found it again, all of the stuff I sent was sent back marked no forwarding address."   
  
"I got the same thing from you." She studied his face, then sighed, "So I just assumed you didn't want to be…"   
  
"Friends anymore?" he questioned.   
  
She nodded. "It crossed my mind."   
  
Jason moved from the couch and sat down on the coffee table in front of the chair. He leaned forward and took her hands in his. "It never crossed mine, Elizabeth. You were—you were the first person that ever believed in me. I still remember what you said to me in the hospital. 'I'll love you no matter who you are…' you remember?"   
  
"I meant it," she whispered. "Every single word."   
  
"Me too."   
  
She leaned forward so that her head was resting against his and Jason brought his arms up to wrap her in a hug. They stayed like that, him holding her, for what felt like an eternity.   
  
When finally he pulled back, Elizabeth could see the tears streaking down his cheeks. She knew she was crying too. Silently, she reached up and wiped them away before Jason's hand covered hers. "Thank you," she said softly.   
  
Jason pulled back from here completely, so that they weren't touching. He studied her, wanting to pinch himself to see if she was _really_ real. "I can't believe you're here," he admitted.   
  
"Neither can I," she agreed. Elizabeth slumped back in the chair as her gaze drifted to the sleeping child. "You said Carly left…what happened?"   
  
Because she wasn't looking at him, Elizabeth missed the look of pain that crossed over his face. "After he was born," he said tipping his head towards the child. "I came home from work and her aunt was here. I knew then she was gone. A call to the bank only confirmed it."   
  
"She took your money?" Elizabeth asked. "And left you with a baby. Jason…"   
  
He held up his hand to stop the apologies he knew were coming. "Monica and Alan, hell, everyone in Port Charles told me she wanted my money. Well, Jason Q's money. They were right, and I should have listened."   
  
"Why didn't you?"   
  
Jason closed his eyes and shook his head. "She…she was my way out of Port Charles, away from the Quartermaines. She…" his voice broke. "She told me she loved me. And she was the only person I had left."   
  
Elizabeth leaned forward and took his hand in hers. "You had me."   
  
"No," he told her, "I didn't. You were on the other side of the country, two thousand miles away from me. Emily and Lila were there, but sometimes I could tell they'd rather have the Golden Boy, too. I had no one, Elizabeth. Not until Carly."   
  
"Did you love her?"   
  
Jason nodded. "Not at first, though. I was in love with her when Michael was born."   
  
"Have you looked for her?"   
  
"No. She didn't want me or Michael. Carly was a free spirit and I knew it was best to let her go."   
  
Elizabeth looked away from him and watched as Michael turned over on the couch. He was laying on his back know and Elizabeth could see his face. He had Jason's angular nose and his strong cheek. "He looks a lot like you," she commented.   
  
"Carly told me the red hair came from her mother," he explained.   
  
Turning back to him, Elizabeth could only look at him with admiration. "How'd you do it?"   
  
"Do what?"   
  
She motioned to Michael and clarified. "Be a father?"   
  
"I didn't know what I was doing, Elizabeth. Michael needed a lot. But I always knew that. Nobody had to tell me. And whatever he needed, I got it for him. How was I able to do that? I'll tell you, I wasn't the same person anymore. Suddenly I was this guy who could do just about anything if I had to."   
  
"God, I've missed this," she said suddenly. Elizabeth blushed at her admission, then tried to backpedal. "I mean…I mean…I've missed you, Jason." Her head dropped to watch his thumb sweep a pattern over her knuckles, and she smiled to herself.   
  
He smiled at her. "I've missed you too. I'm glad we found our way back."   
  
"I'll need to make sure and say thank you to Zander—oh my god! Zander!" Elizabeth jumped from the chair and groaned when she heard Michael began to wake up. "I'm sorry, Jason."   
  
He shook his head, not wanting her apologies. "It's okay. Do you need to go?"   
  
"I…I need to call Zander, at least. Do you have a phone I can use?"   
  
He nodded and pointed towards the kitchen. "There's one on the wall in there."   
  
"Thank you." She turned and rushed off towards the kitchen, to call her cousin. She knew she'd been gone over an hour and he would probably be worried.   
  
"Zander!" she said into the phone.  
  
Jason smiled as he listened as Elizabeth talked animatedly into the phone in the kitchen. Instead of following her, he moved to the couch and pulled Michael into his lap.   
  
"Daddy, who's that?" he asked.   
  
"Daddy's friend, Michael. You remember, I showed you a picture of her."   
  
"What's her name?"   
  
"Elizabeth," Jason answered.   
  
When she came back into the living room, Jason was sitting talking quietly with Michael. She smiled warmly at them. Nodding her head towards the door, she said, "I should go. It's getting dark out and I don't wanna be out late by myself."   
  
Jason stood with Michael in his lap and said, "We can walk you. Where do you live?"   
  
"About two blocks south of here, through the park, but really it's not necessary Jason."   
  
He held Michael close with one arm as he reached out to touch her face. "You came all this way to find me, sat here while I've told you things I haven't told anyone, the least I can do is walk you home. Please Elizabeth?"   
  
It was the 'please' that did her in. Instead of refusing like she wanted to, she found herself nodding her head.   
  
"Good," he smiled. Jason sat Michael down on his feet and took his hand. He grabbed his keys when he passed the rack. "Let's go."   
  
As soon as they were out of the building, Elizabeth smiled when Michael grabbed her hand and they started towards the elevator. "Hi Michael, I'm your dad's friend Elizabeth."   
  
The child smiled.


	6. Meet the Family

Zander paced while he waited for Emma to come home. When she'd run out on him nearly two hours ago, he'd been worried, but he knew she was going to Jason. He also knew he'd never be able to talk her out of it. Not that he wanted to. No, she'd made up her mind, and he was the one who told her she needed to find out for herself if it was real.   
  
Still, he found himself playing the roll of devil's advocate. Zander knew Jason was one of the things Emma kept to herself, only sharing with him what she had to. After he got to know her a little bit, it was obvious that someone held her heart captive. Well, obvious to him, anyway. If you would ask her about Jason, she'd call him a 'childhood friend' and leave it at that. But Zander had a hunch Emma was in love with Jason; that she had been in love with Jason before she even knew what love was.  
  
He sank into the couch and waited. Burying his face in his hands Zander said a round of silent prayers for his cousin. Emma was the only real family he had, he knew that. He and his mother were close enough, but since Emma had come to live with him, he'd put distance between them. Not to mention, his mother preferred the warm climate of Florida over Chicago or Denver. If he had to choose between his missing-in-action mother and a live-in cousin, Emma would win, hands down. He knew she'd never return home and if his mom caught wind of where she was, she'd be on the phone with Jeff and Cheryl as soon as possible.   
  
His relationship with Emma had showed him what true family was about. Until she knocked on his door that fateful night, his aunt's youngest daughter had rarely been a blip on his radar. But she needed him, and he couldn't turn her away. Looking back on the argument, Zander could admit to himself he was somewhat jealous. But not because he felt Jason would take Zander's place in Emma's life, but because Jason had once been her everything. Zander was afraid Emma would get hurt if she discovered time had changed Jason for the worst. The guy was practically a saint in her eyes. Someone Zander didn't think he could compete with. Sure, Zander knew Emma loved him. But—  
  
"But nothing, Smith," he warned the empty room. Zander lifted his head and studied his surroundings. "She's always going to love you. No long-lost friend is going to change that."  
  
Zander's eyes locked on his image in the mirror and he laughed. One of the things he loved about Emma was her ability to carry on a conversation by herself and make complete sense. Apparently she was rubbing off on him.   
  
Zander jumped up when he heard Emma's key hit the lock. He thought he heard voices and he went to the door, and started unlocking it from the top. It was their routine: she always took the bottom three locks and he the top three. She would push while he would pull.   
  
He began to pull, and felt her push on the door. Wearing his brightest smile, Zander came face to face with Jason. The man was tall, at least six foot, and imposing standing in the doorway. Emma stood next to him, laughing. Between them stood a child.   
  
If he hadn't known better, Zander would have thought they were a family. Jason and Emma _looked_ right together. He was tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Emma had always been tiny. Her hair was free, falling onto her shoulders. The blonde streaks they'd put in just a few weeks ago were highlighted by the naked bulb that hung in the doorway. Her blue eyes were shining with an emotion he could only identify as love.   
  
The child—Michael, he assumed—stood, looking between his father and Emma, swinging their arms back and forth. Zander saw the way he looked at her and knew he'd already fallen in love with her. And he thought he could say the same thing about Jason. He was a little harder to read than the boy, but he saw something he could identify behind those light blue eyes. He'd felt it the moment Emma knocked on his door.  
  
"Zander!" Elizabeth exclaimed. She let go of Michael's hand and threw her arms around his neck. Pulling back, she turned so she stood between him and Jason, facing them both. "Zander, this is my old friend Jason Morgan, from Port Charles. Jason, this is my cousin Zander Smith."   
  
Jason extended his hand to the man, which Zander shook. "It's nice to meet you," Zander said. "Em has told me about you. How you were friends as kids and all."   
  
Jason nodded his head. He turned to face Elizabeth and smiled. "So what now? You're home, obviously."   
  
Elizabeth smiled, and nodded. "I am indeed." She looked nervously at Zander, then back at Jason. "Would you and Michael like to come in for some hot chocolate?"   
  
"In August?" Jason asked. But he looked down at his son who was pulling on his hand, eagerly shaking his head yes.   
  
"Please Daddy?" Michael asked. He stuck his bottom lip out in a pout, hoping it would convince his father.   
  
Elizabeth laughed at Michael, then looked up at Jason. "How can you tell that face no?"   
  
"I can't," Jason admitted. "But hot chocolate in August?"   
  
Zander began to usher them in as he said, "You'll find that Emmy will find any reason to have hot chocolate."   
  
"Emmy?" Jason asked.   
  
"I told you I changed my name," Elizabeth explained. "No one has called me Elizabeth, or any variation of, in two years. Besides you and Gram were the only two people who called me Elizabeth anyway."   
  
Jason nodded in understanding. Michael stood by his side, holding his hand. But he was having a hard time standing still, looking around the apartment for the kitchen, wanting to know where the hot chocolate was.   
  
Elizabeth noticed his movements and bit back a chuckle. "Michael, would you like to help me make the hot chocolate?"   
  
He nodded eagerly, then looked up at Jason. "Can I Dad?"   
  
Jason let the little boy's hand go and smiled at him. "Be good for Elizabeth, ok?"   
  
Elizabeth held out her hand and Michael easily took it. They turned towards the kitchen and Jason listened as Michael began to tell her about what he did that day.   
  
Zander studied the man as he looked as Emma left the room. He had thought it was love he saw before, but now he was sure. Inwardly, he sighed. Zander could only hope Jason wouldn't leave her again. "You want to sit down?" he asked.   
  
Jason followed as he turned towards the living room. He stopped at a picture on the wall, of two children playing on the docks next to water. The picture was a watercolor and he could see the image clearly in his mind. A young, blonde boy was sailing a sail boat, and an even younger brown-haired girl was sitting beside him, holding his hand. The picture felt so _familiar_, even though he'd never seen it before.   
  
"Em– Elizabeth painted that," Zander told him.   
  
Jason smiled, then nodded. "I remember that she liked to draw, but she's really good. But you don't have to change what you call her around me. If she's Emma, then call her that."   
  
"Isn't it confusing?" Zander asked.   
  
Jason turned to study the man before he sat down on the couch across from him. "No, it's not. She's always been Elizabeth to me."   
  
"I see." Zander studied Jason as he sat there, clasping and unclasping his hands. "She's missed you. Even though she never said so, you were part of the reason she came to Chicago."   
  
"I never…" Jason began. He turned to face Zander, trying to decide if he could trust the man. Since Carly, he'd become extremely wary of strangers. "I never expected her to look for me. After Carly—Michael's mother—left, I assumed I was too damaged for anyone to really care if I lived or died."   
  
"Damaged?"   
  
Jason tapped a finger on his temple and sighed. "Frontal lobe. Permanent brain damage. She didn't tell you any of this?"   
  
Zander shook his head no. "She didn't think of you as damaged. You were just…Jason."   
  
"I know," Jason told him. "She told me that while I was in the hospital. That she didn't want me to be someone else, she just wanted Jason."   
  
"That's the way Emma is," Zander explained. "She has the kindest heart of anyone I've ever met. You can't help but fall in love with her."   
  
"I can understand that," Jason agreed. His mind drifted to all of the ways Elizabeth had made him love her. The way the air in the room would change when she entered, or how her laugh made his body tingle all over. Even the one time he'd kissed her, how she'd tried to pull back from him. He'd loved her even then. "She said you're cousins, right?"   
  
"Right." Zander linked his hands between his knees and studied the floor. He wasn't sure if he could trust Jason, even if he was Emma's friend. "She's been here about two years now. It's working out well for both of us."   
  
"She told me what happened. How you took her in even though you barely knew her."  
  
Zander cleared his throat, listened to Elizabeth and Michael's muffled voices in the kitchen. "Yeah, well, Emma's… I've been where she was. I couldn't _not_ help her. Now, there isn't anything I wouldn't do for her."  
  
"Yeah," Jason answered, choking back the lump in his throat. "I know what you mean." His gaze swung to the kitchen and he said a silent thank you for whatever was responsible for bringing Elizabeth back into his life.   
  
Elizabeth and Michael appeared carrying two cups of hot chocolate each. Michael's splashed on the carpet as he made his way over. "Daddy, Elizabeth said you liked three packs split two ways with extra syrup."   
  
He smiled down at his son and nodded. "She's right, Michael. Elizabeth and I take it the same way."   
  
The child beamed as he handed his father the cup of hot chocolate. Elizabeth perched on the edge of the couch, close to Zander and handed him the coffee she'd made. "Zander's allergic to chocolate, so he's having coffee."   
  
Jason nodded, then turned to Elizabeth. "Zander and I were just talking about you."   
  
"Really?" she queried. Elizabeth turned to face her cousin and glared at him. "What exactly did you say, Zan?"   
  
"I was just telling Jason what you've been up to for two years," he lied. "Turns out, you'd told him most of it already."   
  
"Oh."   
  
Jason looked at Michael who was sitting on the floor and said, "Michael, Elizabeth is going to be your new teacher."   
  
The child perked up as he turned, spilling more of the hot drink on the floor. "Really Dad?" When Jason nodded, he turned to Elizabeth. "You're going to teach me at the big school?"   
  
She smiled at him warmly, and nodded. "You're going to be in my class, Michael."   
  
"Cool!" he exclaimed.   
  
Elizabeth sat down on the floor beside him and said, "Yeah, I think it's pretty cool too."   
  
"Are you gonna hang out with me and Dad now, Elizabeth?"   
  
"Michael," Jason began. He looked up at Zander, who was studying Elizabeth with the child. "Elizabeth has her own family and friends, here with Zander, she can't spend all of her time with us."   
  
Elizabeth's heart fell at Jason's words. Did that mean he didn't want her around? He'd been so affectionate and welcoming towards her before. Zander picked up on the mood change quickly and added, "But I'm sure she'll still be around, Michael. Elizabeth and your dad are old friends."   
  
Michael nodded, "Daddy has a picture of her that he looks at sometimes."   
  
Elizabeth froze, her mug in mid-air and her gaze volleyed between Jason's deer-in-the-headlights and Michael's nonchalance. "You do?" she managed, finally.   
  
"I—I…" he stuttered, "I have some pictures and letters you wrote me that I've kept. I told you I called your house and talked to your father. I have things from the few months after my accident, before you left, that I never got rid of. Tara, Michael's babysitter, had the things out earlier looking for a picture of Carly to show Michael."   
  
"I have things too," she admitted. "From before and after the accident. I keep them tucked away in a nice little shoe box at the top of my closet." She turned to Zander, who was looking at her curiously. "What like you don't have something like that in _your_ closet?" The tough guy blushed and Elizabeth reached out to rub his back. "I thought so," she teased.   
  
Michael finished his hot chocolate and sat the empty cup on the coffee table. He stood and began wondering around the room, studying each of the knick-knacks and paintings as he came to them. He'd brush his hand over them or trace the picture. Elizabeth knew he was trying to feel like he was a part of the picture.   
  
"Did you do all of these?" Jason asked.   
  
Elizabeth shrugged. "I dabble."   
  
"You're good."   
  
Zander stood and made a show of stretching. "I'm going to bed, Em. Gotta be at Jerry's early in the morning. And don't forget, you have to work tomorrow, too."   
  
Elizabeth stood and kissed him on the cheek. "Yes, _Dad_. I won't stay up too late."   
  
Jason knew a hint when he heard one. He also knew Zander was all but kicking him out for the night. Standing, he took his cup, Michael's cup, and Elizabeth's to the kitchen. When he returned, he stopped in front of Elizabeth and hugged her gently. "He's right, besides, it's way past Michael's bed time."  
  
She murmured in agreement as she hugged him back. His arms tightened around her waist and he lifted her off the ground. "It still doesn't seem real," she whispered in his ear. Pulling back, she kissed him on the cheek before he put her back on the ground.   
  
Jason nodded, "I know." He turned and called to Michael. "Let's go buddy, time for bed."   
  
"Aww man!" Michael exclaimed. "I wasn't finished looking at the pictures, Dad!"   
  
Elizabeth went to him and dropped down on one knee in front of him. She looked back at Jason and smiled before she said to Michael, "If you're really good for your Daddy, maybe he'll bring you back some time and you can finish looking. Or maybe, you and I could paint a picture together. Would you like that Michael?"   
  
"I'd _love_ that, Elizabeth!" he said enthusiastically. Trying to show his appreciation, Michael threw his arms around her neck and squeezed tightly. "You're cool, Elizabeth."   
  
She rubbed his back softly and smiled. "I think you're pretty cool, too. Now, don't forget, you have to be good for Daddy."   
  
Michael nodded before he ran past her to his father's waiting hand. He wrapped his small fingers around Jason's larger ones and tugged him towards the door. "C'mon Dad! Let's go, I'm sleepy!"   
  
Jason laughed and turned to Elizabeth. "I don't know what to say… he's never begged me to go to bed before."   
  
"I'll see you later?" she asked.   
  
"Yeah," he nodded. Lifting his arm, Jason rubbed the back of his neck. "I'd like to call you, if that's okay?"   
  
Elizabeth smiled before she went to the desk and pulled out a piece of paper. Quickly, she wrote down the apartment phone number and address before giving it to him. "I'd like that, Jason."   
  
He tucked the piece of paper in his jean pocket and started with Michael out the door. "Goodnight, Elizabeth."   
  
Before he could start out the door, she reached up to cup his neck. Tugging gently, she gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, held his head close to hers before letting go. "Goodnight, Jason." Elizabeth waited until he was completely out of the door before she began to slide the locks into place. She rested her forehead against the wood door as she listened to Jason and Michael's diminishing voices. Turning away from the door finally, she went straight to Zander's bedroom, because she knew he wasn't sleeping.   
  
When they were outside of the building, Michael stopped walking but didn't let go of Jason's hand. He looked up at his father with bright blue eyes and smiled. "I like Elizabeth, Daddy."   
  
"I like her too," Jason confided in his son.   
  
At his father's admission his smiled turned into a wide grin. "Can she be our new Mommy, Daddy?"


	7. The Beginning of Goodbye

Zander's door was open, the light was on, and he was laying on his bed reading a book when Elizabeth knocked. He'd stripped his shirt off, but lay above the sheet wearing pajama bottoms, one arm tucked under his head. "Can I come in?" Elizabeth asked softly.   
  
He lay the book beside him on the nightstand after marking his page. Looking at her, he nodded. "My door is always open to you Emma." Before he knew what hit him, Emma was in his lap, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. "Uh Em?" he rasped. "I need to breathe."   
  
Giving him one last squeeze, Emma scooted back to sit on his legs. "I'm sorry. I was just so… I had to hug somebody! And why not you, after everything you've done for me?"  
  
He tugged on his ear, a blush softly coloring his cheeks. "I didn't do much. You would've found Jason without me."  
  
"No Zan, I'm not just talking about Jason." Reaching for his hand, she dragged it into her lap and traced the lines of it with her fingertip. "You gave me a home, hope. Love. You have been my rock. I wouldn't be a teacher without you." She looked up then to show him the tears glittering in her eyes.  
  
He swallowed hard, pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, and gently caressed her cheek. "No Em, the teaching thing you did all on your own. You didn't need me. As for the other stuff…" He shrugged, paused to think of just the right words. Clearing his throat, he dipped his head to blink back his own tears. "I only tried to return what you gave to me. I–" His voice faltered at the thought of Emma not being a part of his every day life anymore. "I'm gonna miss it," he managed to whisper.  
  
Elizabeth frowned, even when the tears spilled down her rosy cheeks. "What are you talking about?"   
  
Zander scoffed at her obliviousness. "I saw the way he looked at you, Em. And vice versa. It's like you two were _made_ for each other. And don't even try denying it," he teased, a sad smile curving his lips.  
  
She sighed. "Zan, right now we're just friends. I have _finally_ got my best friend back. I'm not… There's nothing more I want from him. Nothing."   
  
"Oh Em," he sighed, pressing a gentle kiss to her palm. "You have no idea, and that's ok. You'll figure it out. And so will he. And it'll be ok because you'll deserve a little happiness. No, a _lot_ of happiness."  
  
Elizabeth frowned at his words, shifting on the bed to get off his legs. "Why do I feel like you're saying good bye?"   
  
"Because, one day, we'll have to. I guess… I guess I'm just preparing myself for it."  
  
Sighing, Elizabeth rested a hand on his knee. "Zan, no matter what happens, with Jason or with somebody else down the road, you're always going to be a part of my life. You are my friend, my brother. My family. There a lot of things I could live without, but you aren't one of them."   
  
"Yeah, well…"   
  
"No _yeah wells,_ Zan." She gave him a look of mock disdain. "There's no room for argument here, babe. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not."  
  
Zander chuckled, lifted her hand to his chest and spread it flat over his heart. "Damn. I was this close to getting rid of you." He winked at her before pulling her into a big bear hug. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Em."  
  
"Same goes for you, Zan." She pulled back to give him a kiss on the cheek. "You'll always be my brother. Always, always."   
  
"And you'll be my sister, always always."  
  
She smiled as she climbed off the bed, gave his hand one last squeeze before she headed for the door.  
  
Zander watched as she started out of his room. "Emma!"   
  
She spun around, graced him a wide, easy smile. "Yeah?"   
  
"I've never asked you this before, but why'd you choose the name Emma Daniels?"   
  
"Emma is from my middle name."   
  
"Emma is your middle name? They named you Elizabeth Emma Webber? Ok, that's kind of cruel," he teased.  
  
"It was worse," she told him. "Emma comes from Imogene. I think it's after my great-grandmother on Mom's side, or something. But I can live with Emma."   
  
"And Daniels?" Zander asked again. "Was there something wrong with Smith?" he teased.   
  
"Ha!" she laughed. "Emma Smith reminds me too much of the running back for the Cowboys."   
  
"You're a football fan? After two years, I never had a clue you were a football fan."   
  
"Ok, ok, I'm a closet freak," she admitted. "I love the Broncos and the Giants. It's an addiction. Anyway, Emma Smith sounded too much like Emmit Smith. Emma Daniels, on the other hand, sounds like a heroine in a Jane Austen novel."   
  
"It does," he agreed. Zander reached over and turned off the light on his nightstand. "Will you hit the overhead on your way out?"   
  
"Sure," she said before plunging the room in darkness. "Goodnight, Zan."   
  
"Goodnight Emma," he said. Then he added, "Unless you prefer Elizabeth now?"   
  
"No," she said, lingering at his door. "I'll always be your Emma."   
  
  


~*~

  
  
Jason stood in the darkness of Michael's room, watching him sleep. The little boy was curled into a ball, his fist in front of his face, snoring softly. Jason couldn't stop the smile tugging at his lips as he watched him. Whenever he watched him like this, Jason was always taken back to that night five years ago when he made the first promises he'd ever made in his short life.   
  
He used to sit for hours and consider what his life would have been like had Carly not left them. Jason could play the 'what if…' game with the best of them. Then, he realized that saying what if wasn't going to change what was. She was gone. She was never coming back to Michael, or him.  
  
Bending, Jason dropped a kiss on his son's forehead and smiled when he turned in his sleep so that he was on his back. "Goodnight Michael. I love you," he whispered.   
  
When he left the child's room, Jason made sure the door was cracked and the nightlight in the hall was on. Hanging a left at the bathroom, he stripped off his t-shirt and jeans, pulling his gray boxer-briefs down with them. Jason shut the door and turned the shower radio on softly. Next, he turned the water on hot and let it spray warm as he brushed his teeth at the sink. Before he got in the shower, Jason pulled a towel from the cabinet and dropped it on the closed toilet seat.   
  
The shower radio began to play soft children's tunes and Jason smiled as Michael's favorite song came on. Hitting the 'stop' button, Jason tuned the radio to his favorite rock station. He listened as a commercial faded out and a favorite of his came on. Whenever they played this song at the motorcycle shop, Jason always thought of Michael.   
  
_"Daddy, this song is about the place we live…"_   
  
Jason knew Michael didn't understand what the song was really about, but the name of the band, Linkin Park, reminded the child of the area in Chicago where they lived. But Jason could relate to the song. He knew one of the draw of Jake's in Port Charles was the loud rock music and cold beer there. But this song…this song always reminded him of Carly.   
  
As the piano began to flood from the speaker of the small radio, Jason stood there and let thoughts of her take him over.   
  
If he admitted to himself, only the chorus applied to him. Because he did try hard to make things work with her. She just wouldn't, or couldn't, give herself back to him. It took him a long time to realize that Carly left him, that _she_ was the one who quit on _him_. And not only did she leave him, but Michael as well.  
  
Maybe it was the brain damage, or the loneliness, but he missed her for a long time. At nights he would read the letter she wrote him over and over again, focusing on the last two sentences. _I love you Jason, I do. Please don't doubt that. But I can't stay. I know you'll take care of Michael. I'd like to say I'll see ya later, but I won't. Goodbye, Jase. Love- Caroline._  
  
Those words had shaped so much of who he was. Though he'd never told her, he'd planning on asking her to marry him. He'd even bought the ring. Jason assumed she found the ring, and that's why she left. Yes, he understood now that taking care of Michael was a responsibility that she didn't want. But then, all he saw was the empty ring box sitting next to his bed, the diamond engagement ring gone. She'd taken it.   
  
He'd spent days searching for the perfect ring. He'd even consulted Lila on what women wanted in engagement rings. Finally he came home with a half caret diamond set on a gold band. It was a beautiful ring. Carly must have thought so, too.   
  
Jason stepped under the warm stream and rinsed the shampoo from his hair and soap from his body. He listened to the bridge and the chorus one last time, committing the words to his mind.  
  
_I've put my trust in you  
Pushed as far as I can go  
And for all of this  
There's only one thing you should know  
  
I tried so hard  
But in the end  
It doesn't even matter  
I had to fall  
To lose it all  
But in the end  
It doesn't even matter _  
  
Drying himself with the thick towel, Jason knew the song was right. It didn't matter what Carly had done to him, because in the end it _didn't_ matter. He was probably in a better place because she had left him. He'd been blessed with a wonderful son, whom he loved more than life. And he'd proven to himself and the Quartermaines that he wouldn't whither and die by himself. He could take care of himself.  
  
Sure, it would have been easy to return to the mansion and allow their nannies and butlers help take care of Michael, but Jason didn't want to quit. Not on Michael, and not on himself. It'd been rough, but they were ok. They had each other, that's all they really needed.   
  
Jason clicked the light off in the bathroom and turned right to his bedroom. Dropping the towel as soon as he shut the door, Jason went to his dresser looking for clean underwear. He pulled another pair of boxer-briefs over his muscled thighs. Opting to not put any sweat pants over the underwear, he walked to the bed and turned the covers back.   
  
Before he climbed in, he walked back to the dresser. On top of it was the slip of paper Elizabeth had given him earlier with her number. He made a mental note to call her after work tomorrow and see if she was up for dinner and maybe a movie. He knew he'd need to ask Tara if she could baby-sit this weekend, but Jason knew Elizabeth wouldn't care if Michael came with them. She'd probably insist that Michael come with them, he thought with a smile.   
  
Jason pulled the top drawer open, reaching under his socks and pulling out the envelope he'd stuffed back in there four months ago. He pulled the card out and dropped the picture of Carly with a newborn Michael in his hand. Jason wanted to pick up a picture frame so the child would have a picture of his mother.   
  
All of Michael's recent questions about his mother made Jason clearly see that Michael needed to know Carly still loved him, despite her shortcomings. Jason wanted Michael to at least know what the woman who gave him life looked like, in case he ever saw her on the street. It pained his heart to think Michael might one day walk right past Carly not knowing who she was. He wanted the child to understand he already had a mother, but someday he might have a 'Mommy,' too. Carly was a part of Michael; Jason had long ago accepted that.   
  
After he dropped the picture next to Elizabeth's number, Jason put the envelope back in the drawer. He wanted to give Michael the letter she'd written some day, hoping to explain her actions. His hand brushed against the velvet covered plastic ring box and he pulled it back. He opened the empty box and studied where the ring once sat, before he closed again.   
  
Sighing, Jason crossed the room and shut the light off, but opened his door in case Michael came to his room in the middle of the night. Glancing at the clock on his nightstand, he told himself he needed to be awake in five hours. Jason lay down on the bed and pulled the sheet over him, before he dropped the empty box in the trash can next to his bed.   
  
The trash can gave a small _thud_ as plastic hit plastic. And then there was nothing.   
  
_Song Credit: Linkin Park, "In the End"_


	8. First Day of School

_a few days later…_  
  
The sound of the timer on the microwave going off was what woke her. Elizabeth was a little dazed as to where she was, until she realized she'd fallen asleep on the couch and someone had put an afghan over her. "Zan?" she called out.   
  
Her cousin appeared seconds later, coffee cup in hand, in the doorway leading into the kitchen. "Yeah?"   
  
"What time is it?" she asked, pushing her hair out of her face.   
  
Zander glanced out the sliding glass door where he could see the sun rising over the horizon. "Almost six. It's just light out."   
  
She pulled herself off the couch, draping the afghan over its back. Running a hand through her hair, she asked, "Why didn't you wake me when you came in last night?"   
  
Zander lifted a shoulder as he took another sip of his coffee. "You were out like a light. Besides, today is a big day; I thought you needed your rest."   
  
Elizabeth stretched towards the ceiling and moaned as her back and shoulders popped. "Thanks. Like always, you were right. But I need to get ready or I'm gonna be late for my first day of school. I've got a meeting with the principal first thing."   
  
"Oooh," he taunted her like a child on the playground, "Emmy's in trouble. Emmy's in trouble."   
  
She was smiling at his teasing even as she moved past him into the bathroom. "You're gonna make me late, then I _will_ be in trouble," she told him before she shut the door.   
  
Zander knew she wasn't really upset. As he heard the shower start, he returned to the kitchen to begin making Elizabeth's favorite breakfast.   
  
A half an hour later, Elizabeth emerged from her bedroom, dressed. "How does this look?"   
  
When Zander turned away from the stove, Elizabeth did a slow pirouette in the doorway. She was wearing a navy blue v-neck loose fitted t-shirt that stopped at her hips and a long jean skirt. Her feet were adorned in brown Birkenstock sandals, showcasing her painted toenails. "Don'tcha think you should at least wear tennis shoes, or something?"   
  
"I'm a teacher, not an old school marm," she told him. "Besides, my toes need to breathe. You know I don't wear closed-toe shoes until there's at least six inches of snow on the ground." Elizabeth walked past him to where the stack of pancakes sat on a plate, and she grabbed the pancake from the top of the pile. Tearing at it, she popped the piece into her mouth, and asked, "What about my hair?"   
  
He could tell she'd dried it just enough, put moose in it so the curl would hold, then let it go. The curly brown mass of hair settled just below her shoulders, moving whenever she did. "You know, I wish my teachers were as hot as you. I mighta liked school a whole lot better."   
  
Elizabeth slapped him on the shoulder as she finished the pancake and reached for another. "You know, in some cultures it's considered taboo to tell a relative she's hot. It's called incest."   
  
"Sheesh, Em," he sighed. "I was giving you a compliment, not asking you to go to bed with me." Even though he sounded offended, his trademark grin gave him away. "You're gonna be late."   
  
She glanced back at the stove clock as she finished the second pancake. "You're right, I am." Rushing past him, she grabbed the book bag from beside the couch and slung it over her shoulder. "Whatcha think of Chinese tonight?"   
  
"You buying?" he asked.   
  
"Sure. We should celebrate."   
  
"Oh?"   
  
"Yeah. I'm officially joining those with a career. I'm no longer a poor college student."   
  
"I thought that _was_ your career," he joked.   
  
She grew serious again and asked, "Are you sure I look okay?"   
  
Zander took two steps forward until he was in front of her. Reaching out, he smoothed both of his hands down her arms. "Would you just believe that you're beautiful? So beautiful that I want to call you a cab, my treat, to take you to work."   
  
"Oh please," she rolled her eyes. "I'll get there faster, and it's free. I better go."   
  
He leaned down and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. "I'll see ya later, Em."   
  
Elizabeth smiled at him brightly before she turned away from him and towards the door.   
  
  


~*~

  
  
Elizabeth practically ran to school. Partly because she a bundle of nerves, but mostly because she didn't want to be late for her meeting.   
  
The office secretary, Kate, smiled when she came in, and silently picked up the phone. Somewhere in the office Elizabeth heard a phone ring and Kate began speaking when it stopped. "Emma Daniels is here to see you."   
  
When she hung up, she smiled brightly, "Dr. Smith is waiting for you. Her office is down the hall on the right."   
  
Elizabeth nodded, "Thanks Kate," before she disappeared down the hall toward Dr. Smith's office.   
  
She lightly knocked on the door and opened it when she was given permission to enter.   
  
"Ah, Ms. Daniels, have a seat," the older, African American woman gestured.   
  
"Dr. Smith," Elizabeth greeted her.   
  
"Rena," the principal corrected. "Ms. Daniels, I feel like I know you already from my husband. You were one of his favorites this semester."   
  
Elizabeth smiled fondly, "Yes. Dr. Gooden was the highlight of my semester too. And please, call me Emma."   
  
"Emma," Dr. Smith started. She hesitated, searching for the appropriate words to approach the subject. "Emma, your TA, Mr. Rosen came to me, concerned. I feel I can come to you about this because of your connection to my husband."   
  
"You mean he told you I over-reacted when I found Michael Morgan's name on my class roll. Because of my connection to his father."   
  
"Yes," the older woman confirmed. Dr. Smith linked her hands together and leaned forward on her elbows. "Emma, while it is not prohibited, you should know it's looked down upon teachers carrying on relationships with their students' parents."   
  
"With all due respect, Dr. Smith," Elizabeth began, "I don't know what Mr. Rosen told you. But I assure you he has misled you regarding my relationship with Michael Morgan's father."   
  
"Explain it to me, Emma. What is the nature of your relationship with Mr. Morgan?"   
  
"I've known Jason—Mr. Morgan, since I was five," she confessed. "We grew up in the same small town in New York. We went to high school together and my grandmother works in the hospital where his father is chief of staff.  
  
"Dr. Smith, Mr Morgan is the first best friend I ever had. I hadn't heard from him in five years until I found his son's name on my class roll. You can imagine my shock."   
  
"Yes, I can," Dr. Smith sympathized. "I want to be frank with you, Emma. Is your personal relationship with Mr. Morgan going to affect your ability to teach his child?"   
  
"Absolutely not," Elizabeth vowed.   
  
"Very well," the principal sighed. Looking up, she smiled brightly. "That's all then, Emma. Unless you have something to add?"   
  
Elizabeth stood and reached for her bag she'd dropped by the chair. "Rena, I love children, and I'm honored to be a teacher. But I do not want to work at a school that does not encourage cooperation between teachers and parents. If that's the kind of place this is, then I think we should rethink this arrangement."   
  
"Of course we do!" the principal exclaimed. "What gave you that idea Ms. Daniels?"   
  
"Nothing. I've just always believed that cooperation involved friendship." Elizabeth pulled the door open and stepped through it. "I hope you have a nice day, Dr. Smith. Please, tell your husband hello for me." She pulled the door closed behind her.   
  
Silently, Elizabeth made her way to her classroom from the office. Jake was sitting at his desk, and fortunately it was still early enough no students were there. "I think we need to talk," she said, closing the door.   
  
He looked up from his desk, smiling. "I take it you spoke with Dr. Smith."   
  
"Yes," Elizabeth nodded. "We had a nice chat. Can you tell me what possessed you to tell her about my reaction?"   
  
"It was strange–"  
  
"Jake," Elizabeth sighed. She perched herself on a table, facing him. "Michael Morgan's father and I are old friends. It was a shock and I didn't expect to see his name there, but I promise you it's not going to affect my ability to teach Michael." Elizabeth paused before she continued, "You and I have to be able to trust each other, Jake. We have more than twenty children depending on us, so we have to work this out."   
  
"There isn't a problem," Jake said. "I was just…concerned."   
  
"Thank you. But it wasn't warranted."   
  
"I know that now," he said. He didn't finish speaking because there was a knock on the door. "Come in!" he called.   
  
Elizabeth turned in time to see a red-headed little boy flinging himself at her legs. "Hiya Michael," she grinned.   
  
"Hey Elizabeth!" he exclaimed.   
  
Jason came up behind them, smiling. "Michael, remember what I told you? When you're at school, you have to call her Ms. Daniels."   
  
"Awww, do I have to, Dad?"   
  
"Yes," Jason repeated. "You have to. You can call her Elizabeth when you're not at school, if that's okay."   
  
The little boy shifted his gaze from his father to Elizabeth. "Is it okay?"   
  
"Of course it's okay," she smiled at him. Elizabeth looked up at Jason and smiled shyly. "Hi."   
  
"Michael, why don't you look around and see if you can find your seat," Jason suggested. "I need to speak with Ms. Daniels for a minute."   
  
"Ok, Daddy," the child easily agreed. He walked off to the fartherest table, sensing his fathers need for privacy.   
  
"What's up?" Elizabeth asked. "And isn't this a little early to be dropping him off for school?"   
  
"It is. Usually I have his babysitter bring him by. But something came up, and she won't be able to sit for him today. Which…is why I need to talk to you."   
  
Elizabeth stared at him, expectantly. When he didn't say anything she prompted him by saying, "What do you need?"   
  
Jason looked down, unable to meet her gaze. He hated to be taking advantage of their newly discovered friendship. "I have a meeting at the garage after work. I was curious if you could take Michael home with you, because I don't have anyone to watch him."   
  
"It's no problem," Elizabeth said immediately. "I'll just need you to write a note, or something. Give me official authorization."   
  
"I can do that," Jason smiled. He took a step forward, but didn't touch her, aware of the assistant's eyes on them. "Thank you, Elizabeth."   
  
She waved him off with her hand. "I told you, no problem. Does Michael like Chinese food?"   
  
"Chinese food?"   
  
"That's what Zander and I were having—"   
  
"You have dinner plans?" he asked. "Ok, forget everything I just asked… I'll figure something out."   
  
"No, no, no," Elizabeth said urgently. "I'm ordering take out. Hey, what kind of Chinese do _you_ like, that way you can eat with us when you get there."   
  
He studied her, not sure if the invite was out of obligation or sincerity. "Are you sure?" he asked.   
  
"_ Yes_."   
  
"Ok. Michael likes vegetable egg rolls and white rice. And I…sesame chicken, vegetable rice, and an egg roll. Let me give you some money," he added, reaching for his wallet.  
  
Elizabeth held up her hand to stop him. "Jason, this is my treat. Let me do this. Plus, we're celebrating the fact that I now have a career, not just a job."   
  
Jason took a step forward and grabbed her hands. Holding them to close to him, he looked down at her, his blue eyes filled with feeling. "Thank you."   
  
"I haven't done anything," she told him. "You're a friend…and Michael is your son."   
  
"You've done more for me than you can imagine," he whispered. He wanted to say so much more to her, but he knew this wasn't the place. Students and their parents were beginning to arrive, and if he stayed there too much longer he was going to be late himself. "I need to go."   
  
Elizabeth swallowed, then nodded. "Ok. See ya tonight, then."   
  
"Yeah…see ya." Looking past her, his eyes rested on Michael. "Michael," he called.   
  
The child came running. "Dad, I found my seat. Wanna see?"   
  
"Sure," he agreed. Michael took him by the hand and began dragging him towards the third table in the circle. Elizabeth turned and watched them.   
  
Jason crouched down so that he was eye-level with Michael. "I have to go to work now. Instead of going home with Tara tonight, you're gonna stay with Elizabeth, ok? I'll pick you up at her house after I get off work."   
  
Michael wrapped his arms around his father's neck and hugged him tight. "I'll see you, Daddy." Pulling back, he kissed him on the cheek. "I love you."   
  
"I love you too," Jason told him softly.   
  
Elizabeth didn't see the rest of the exchange, but she watched Jason's back as he left the room. Silently, she reached up to wipe the tears from her eyes.   
  
Pulling herself together, she smiled. It was her first day of school.


	9. Dinner

The food got there before Zander or Jason. Elizabeth had been coloring with Michael when the knock came on the door. Thinking it was Jason, she jumped up, put on her brightest smile, only to be disappointed when it was Chang, the food delivery boy from Wong's. Forcing her disappointment away, Elizabeth took the two twenty dollar bills out of her back pocket and exchanged them for the food. "Keep the change," she told him with a smile.  
  
"But Miss Emma–" the delivery boy said, "too much change," he told her. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a wad of one dollar bills. "Give you money back."   
  
Waving him off with her hand, Elizabeth said, "No. Keep it. Thank you, Chang." Her smile returned as he began thanking her over and over again as she closed the door. "Michael," she called out, "I'm just gonna put the food in the stove, I'll be back in a second."   
  
The red-headed child was still coloring when she returned to the living room. Instead of sinking back on the floor with him, Elizabeth curled her feet under her and sat on the couch. She watched as the little boy pulled his front lip between his teeth and concentrated on what he was drawing. She leaned forward and peaked over his shoulder. "Whatcha drawing, Michael?"   
  
"A picture of me and Daddy," he told her, not stopping his picture. Putting down the black crayon and reaching for the yellow, he asked, "Do you like it, Elizabeth?"   
  
"I do, Michael." After studying the picture a little longer, she added, "Michael, why didn't you draw your mother?"   
  
"I don't have a mother."   
  
"Everyone has a mother, Michael," she told him. Elizabeth gently laid a hand on his shoulder to stop his coloring. "Do you remember your mother at all?"   
  
The child looked down at his hands and shook his head. When he looked up, there were tears in his eyes. "Mommy didn't want me or Daddy. She left us." It was almost as if he was ashamed of what Carly had done to him and he couldn't hold her gaze. "She didn't love us, I don't think."   
  
"Of course she did, Michael." Elizabeth took his face in her hands and turned him so he was facing her. "I'm sure your mother loved you and your daddy. Sometimes things happen, and children have no control over it, Michael. But don't ever, _ever_ blame yourself for what your mother did."   
  
Slowly, Michael nodded his head. Reaching up, he wiped the few tears that had fallen with the back of his hands. "Thanks, Elizabeth." His smile brightened when he remembered something his father had told him once before. "Daddy said that maybe we can get a new Mommy, though."   
  
"He did?" Elizabeth asked, she tried to keep her tone so that she was asking him about a new toy, or what he had for dinner. "Well that's exciting, Michael."   
  
"Yeah. Daddy said he liked you, Elizabeth. Do you like my daddy?"   
  
"Yes, I like your daddy. We're friends."   
  
Even though he wasn't sure exactly what the word 'friend' meant, it didn't sound like Elizabeth liked his Daddy. Michael frowned and quickly looked away. "Oh."   
  
A frown creased her brow as she saw the sudden mood change in the little boy. "What's wrong, Michael?"   
  
"Nothing," he said, reaching for the yellow crayon again. "Can I color until Dad gets here, Elizabeth?"   
  
"Yeah," she told him softly as he continued to retreat into himself. Sitting back on the couch, Elizabeth reached for her own sketch book and continued working on the outfit she was designing in the sketch.   
  
They both worked silently until the door lock turned and opened. Zander came through, brightly smiling. "Hey, Emmy." Holding up a brown bag, he said, "I picked up some wine on the way home, that way we can celebrate." His smile fell when he saw Michael's red head peak out from the other side of the couch. "Hey Michael."   
  
Elizabeth sensed his mood change and turned to explain. "Jason dropped him off at school. He said his baby-sitter had some kind of emergency and asked if I could watch Michael until he got out of some meeting."   
  
"That's just great, Em," Zander said. Shrugging off the long sleeved over-shirt he wore, and tossed it over the back of the chair. "I'll just put this in the fridge, then I'll be in my room."   
  
"Zander!" she called after him. Elizabeth frowned when he didn't come back. "Michael, I'll be right back."   
  
Elizabeth lingered in the doorway as she watched Zander strip his top shirt off down to a tank top. "I thought we talked about this," she said making her presence known.   
  
"What?" he whispered forcefully. "We talked about what?"   
  
"Jason."   
  
"This isn't about _Jason _," Zander promised. "This is about you and I making plans to vege the night away. This is about you being so busy preparing for your new job that we've barely said two words to each other. This is about me having a long day and not wanting to come home and having to baby-sit!" He frowned at his whispered hostility, turned away from her so he could calm down.  
  
Stepping inside of the room, Emma gently closed the door so Michael wouldn't hear them argue. "We're not baby-sitting, Jason had a meeting. He's going to join us for dinner when he's done."   
  
"And the fun just keeps on coming," sighing, Zander reached for the shirt he'd just discarded. "Then you and Jason and Michael have a good time. I'm not going to stick around."   
  
She crossed the room and laid a tentative hand on his shoulder. "What's the matter?" He slumped and she made him turn around. "Zan, what is it?"   
  
"Lucy. But I'm not going to get into it now. You have fun with Jason and Michael. I'll be down at Red's, drowning my sorrows." He grabbed for a wad of fives and tens on his dresser and started to move past Emma.   
  
She grabbed at his arm, spinning him around. "Please. Stay. When Jason comes I'll- I'll let him take the food I ordered for them and tell him I'm not feeling well."  
  
A corner of Zander's mouth hooked up and he pulled Emma into a fierce hug. "God help me, but I love you," he chuckled into her hair. Pulling away, he held her out at arm's length. "I will be fine. You have dinner with Jason and Michael. Have a good time. Hell, have an extra beer in my honor." He pushed a hair out of her eyes. "We'll talk when I get home. I promise. I'll even pick up a couple of pints of Concession Obsession, ok?"  
  
"Well… if you insist." She hooked her arm through his and walked him to the door. "I'm sorry about Lucy."   
  
Zander dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "I'm better off anyway. She was too good for a bum like me."   
  
"No Zander," Emma disagreed. "If she can't see past your social status or where you live or how you lead your life, then it's you who's too good for her. You're got a huge heart, Zan. I'm not going to be the only one who knows it. You'll find someone, even if I have to send you on blind dates every other night." She laughed when he groaned and opened the door.  
  
He bent to give her a kiss on the forehead. "I'll see you later. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he teased with a wink.  
  
She stood in the door way and watched him press the button for the elevator. Too impatient to wait, he turned and waved to her before heading further down the hall for the stairs. When he disappeared from view, she turned back to the apartment and was startled by Michael standing just a few feet from her.   
  
"I need the bathroom," he explained.   
  
Elizabeth sniffed and nodded at him. "I'll show you." She placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him down the hall. As soon as he shut the door, Elizabeth heard a knock on the front door. She hoped it was Zander, but knew it was Jason. Going to it, she pulled it open. "Hey, Jase."   
  
Jason immediately picked up on her not-happy tone. "Hey…" he stared after her, as she turned and walked away from him. "I would have been here sooner, but I was… I went home and showered, thought it wouldn't hurt to freshen up a little." Jason turned his attention to the living room and frowned when his son wasn't sitting on the couch. "Where's Michael?"   
  
"Bathroom," Elizabeth called from the kitchen. She carefully took three plates and glasses from the cabinets and brought them out to the dining area. "I'll get the food."   
  
He didn't miss the dejectedness in her voice, or the way her shoulders were sagging just a little bit. "Elizabeth, what's wrong?" he asked.   
  
She turned, and sighed, but then put on a bright, albeit fake, smile. "Nothing, I'm fine."   
  
"Why'd you only bring three plates and glasses?" Pausing, he waited for an answer. When she didn't say anything, he added, "I saw Zander on my way out…he didn't even say hello. What happened, Elizabeth?"   
  
"Just leave it alone, Jason."   
  
"No," he told her before he crossed to where she was. Reaching up, Jason cupped her right cheek with his palm. "I won't leave it alone. Did you and Zander have a fight?"   
  
She thought about lying to him. It would have been infinitely easier, because she didn't want to tell him Zander was upset at Jason and Michael barging in on their dinner together. "We just had a tiny disagreement and Zander needed to get some air. He'll be back later."   
  
"I'm sorry," he told her, his voice low and sincere. "You wanna talk about it?"   
  
"Not really," she confessed. "It's just…he was kind of disappointed that you and Michael were coming over for dinner… he thought we were celebrating alone tonight."   
  
"Oh," Jason replied, his eyes widening at her meaning. "I…we can leave, Elizabeth. I didn't mean to put you out."   
  
"No, no, no," Elizabeth said immediately. "I didn't tell you so you'd feel bad and leave. I _want_ you here, Jason. Zander just… he was having a bad day, anyway. It's gonna be okay."   
  
"Are you sure?" Jason asked.   
  
"Yes," she told him. Elizabeth looked up and in his eyes so he knew she was telling him what she wanted. "Zander's already left, and if you and Michael go, I'd be alone. I hate eating alone."   
  
"I remember," he smiled. Jason placed both hands on her shoulders and pulled her into his body. His arms wrapped around her carefully, as if she were the most precious thing in the world. Jason closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair, taking in her scent.   
  
Elizabeth's small arms wound around his waist as she turned her cheek to rest against his broad chest. The few times they'd hugged, it had never been like this. She'd kept him at a distance, or he pulled back. But this time, they stood there in the living room, holding each other for an eternity.   
  
When Jason finally opened his eyes, he saw his son standing there, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Loosening his arms around Elizabeth's body, he stepped back. "Hi Michael."   
  
"Daddy!" the boy exclaimed, before taking off for his father's waiting arms.   
  
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself as she watched Jason scoop his son into open arms. His large arms hugged the small boy while Michael wrapped his arms around Jason's neck. She disappeared in the kitchen to get their food while the two shared their moment. After leaving Zander's dinner in the oven, Elizabeth grabbed the two brown bags and forks. "What would you like to drink?" she called.   
  
Jason appeared in the door of the kitchen, Michael close by. "Whatcha got?" he asked.   
  
Elizabeth opened the refrigerator and reached for the pitcher of water. "Water, Coke, coffee, hot chocolate, and I could probably find a b-e-e-r, if you want."   
  
He chuckled at her spelling of the word so Michael wouldn't understand what she was offering. "Water's fine for me, and Michael will take some milk, if you have it."   
  
"One water and one milk coming up."   
  
Leaning against the door, Jason crossed his arms over his chest and said, "You sound so professional doing that."   
  
"I should," she told him, pouring the milk into a glass. "I've been bartending for the last five years."   
  
"Really?" he asked, taking two of the glasses from her. "C'mon Michael," he called as they left the kitchen. "Why would you want to do that?"   
  
"It paid the rent," she told him. "And I was good at it."   
  
"Where'd you work?" he asked, digging into the bag.   
  
"Ditka's," she told him. "Oh! I got Michael what you said, but I also ordered him some chicken-on-a-stick."   
  
"Chicken-on-a-what?"   
  
"A stick," she told him. Taking the bag from him, Elizabeth pulled a styrofoam container with sticks protruding from the side. Opening it, she produced a piece of meat, on a stick like a kabob. "It's chicken. He might like it." Laying the four pieces of meat on Michael's plate, she continued to serve the rest of the food.   
  
"Eat up," she ordered when all of the food was on the table. She smiled to herself as Michael began to dig into his plate, oblivious to the two adults around him.   
  
"So what else have you been doing?" Jason inquired.  
  
"School," she smiled. "I just finished my Masters at DePaul."   
  
"Congratulations," Jason said. "That's great!"   
  
"Thanks." Taking a bite of her sesame chicken and chewing, she paused. "What about you?"   
  
"I manage a garage about three blocks from our apartment. I've been working there since we moved to Chicago."   
  
"I see," Elizabeth replied. "Sounds like…fun."   
  
"I mainly work on bikes. Have you ever been on a motorcycle?"   
  
"No," Elizabeth said quickly. "I'd probably wreck it and hurt myself if I ever tried."   
  
"Nah," Jason said smiling. "It's not hard. If you want, I can take you out on one of the bikes sometime."   
  
"I'd like that," she said before she even had time to think about it.   
  
They both returned to their food, and silence stretched across the table, save for the sound of silverware hitting the glass plates. Finally, when they finished, Elizabeth stood and began gathering the dishes.   
  
"I'll help," Jason said immediately.   
  
"That's okay."   
  
Touching her arm, Jason looked up at her. "I want to."   
  
She nodded, then swallowed. "What about Michael?"   
  
Thinking quick, he asked, "You have a TV?"   
  
Elizabeth snorted, then quickly turned red at the noise she'd made. "I couldn't live with Zander if we didn't have TV. In the living room, there are some movies, maybe even a cartoon or two."   
  
Nodding, Jason left the room, Michael in tow. Elizabeth picked up the rest of the dishes and carried them into the kitchen. She turned the tap water on to warm and began filling one side of the sink, adding detergent so she could wash the plates.   
  
Jason joined her a moment later, taking his place on her side, grabbing a dish towel from the rack beside the stove. "You wash, I dry. And we can talk."   
  
"Ok," she agreed. Turning her head so she could see him, she asked, "What would you like to talk about?"   
  
"How about… do you have a boyfriend?"   
  
That was the last question she'd been expecting. Stalling for time, Elizabeth cleared her throat and focused on the plate she was washing. "No, I don't," she said finally.   
  
"I didn't mean to pry," he apologized.   
  
"It's okay, Jason. What about you?"   
  
It was his turn to snort. "I'm not exactly dating material. A single father who's completely in love with his kid? Plus, I haven't met an interesting woman in years."   
  
"So there's no one?"   
  
"Not unless you count my seventeen year old baby-sitter who has a crush on me. And I don't count her, so there's no one." He focused on drying the plate she handed him and putting it in the cabinet. "So there's been nobody for you, either?"   
  
"There's my ex-stalker boyfriend," she said lightly.  
  
"Stalker?" Jason questioned.  
  
"Not a real stalker," she clarified. "More like…he's always there, wanting to get coffee, or something. An annoyance would probably be a better description."   
  
"I see."   
  
Handing him the last plate, Elizabeth let the water out of the sink. "Jason, I think we need to talk about Michael…"   
  
"Yes?" he asked, concerned. "What happened?"   
  
Swallowing, Elizabeth looked away from his penetrating gaze. "I think…" she trailed off. Elizabeth forced herself to turn and look at him. "I think we need to talk about Michael and his mother."


	10. Goodbye to You

If Michael hadn't been asleep on Elizabeth's living room floor, Jason probably would have stormed out and not looked back. He had tried so hard to distance himself from talking about his ex-girlfriend. Talking about her didn't change anything. Jason had accepted long ago that Carly was gone; he knew Michael didn't remember his mother at all and it was for the best. But now Elizabeth, of all people, wanted to talk about Carly.   
  
Jason sank down on the couch, his face in his hands, while he listened to Michael's slow, easy breathing. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Elizabeth's bedroom door click shut and the soft strands of a guitar flood from under the door and through the walls. The music bled into the living room and mixed with the warmth he felt there.   
  
He'd hurt her the way he'd simply shut down. Instead of talking to her about Carly he turned into a dish-drying machine, paying attention only to the dishes Elizabeth stacked in the drainer. Even though it had been years since Carly had left him, the wounds sometimes felt fresh and Carly was given the power to hurt him all over again. Jason ground his palms into his eyes pushing the tears back inside of him. A large part of him wanted to grab Michael and leave. Jason knew Elizabeth would understand; but it would only hurt her more.   
  
He stood and took one last look at his sleeping son before leaving the living room, in search of Elizabeth's room. The music led him to her. The song was soft and slow. A goodbye song, he realized. "Christ, why is she listening to this?" he muttered. Swallowing his pride, Jason quickly knocked on the door.   
  
Elizabeth had changed into a black tank top and pajama pants and pulled her hair back in a pony tail. She yanked the door open and glared up at him. "What do you want?" she asked, harshly.   
  
Her tone stung him. "I…" he began. Hell, he didn't even know what he wanted. He stood staring at her, trying to empty his feelings into her heart. Trying to make her understand his pain. "Can I come in?" Jason finally asked.   
  
"Why don't we go to the living room?" Not waiting for his answer, Elizabeth pulled her bedroom door shut and started down the hall.   
  
"Michael's asleep," Jason managed to say. "I don't want to wake him. I'm guessing he didn't take a nap when he came home from school?"   
  
Elizabeth wrapped her arms protectively around her and shook her head. Looking away, she sighed heavily. Jason could see her tears when she looked back at him, he hated the way her lower lip trembled with emotion. "I want to talk to you," he told her.   
  
"You don't have to," she retorted. "I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do."   
  
"Elizabeth," he sighed. Jason closed the distance between them as the CD in her room began to repeat the soft guitar strands. He was afraid to touch her, but afraid to not touch her. She looked so fragile standing there in the dim hall light. "Can we go back in your room and talk?"   
  
"Jason–"   
  
"I _need_ to talk to you, Elizabeth." In his voice, he tried to convey his need. He wanted her to understand just how much he needed to talk about this with someone. No, not just someone—Elizabeth. His best friend.   
  
"I guess," Elizabeth complied. Moving past him, but not touching him she opened her bedroom door and walked in. He moved past her as she went to the CD player and began pushing buttons. "Do you care if I leave this on?"   
  
"No," he answered. "It's nice, I like it. I don't listen to much music other than Barney and Sesame Street these days. Who is it?"   
  
"Michelle Branch." Elizabeth reached for the stack of CDs and began shuffling through them. "If she's not okay with you, I have others. Train, Nickelback, Linkin Park, I even have this Willie Nelson CD Zander gave to me as a gag."   
  
"She's fine, Elizabeth. Plus, I kind of like this song…seems very fitting for the conversation we're about to have."   
  
Elizabeth laughed softly. It did seem to fit their conversation. "Why'd you react to me like that? You just went all cold and distant on me, Jason."   
  
Jason clenched his fists at his side as she admitted he'd hurt her. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "I didn't mean to. It's just... Carly is something I've always kept extremely private."   
  
"Something you can continue to keep private," she told him. "You don't have to tell me this, I already told you."   
  
"I told you before all the reasons I fell in love with Carly. All the reasons it hurt me so much that she left, but I've never really sat down and considered how much it confused Michael. He asked me about four months ago if we could get him a new Mommy."   
  
Elizabeth nodded. "He said the same thing to me today," she told him. She paused to lick her lips, then continued, "He seemed to withdraw from me after that."   
  
"Yeah?" he asked. Jason moved further into the room, closing the door behind him, and sat on her bed. "He asked me if _you_ could be his new Mommy."   
  
Instead of going to the bed, Elizabeth pulled the roller chair from under her desk and sat down. She balanced one hand on the desk and she pulled her legs up under her. "That explains it, then."   
  
"Explains what?"   
  
"Why he shut down on me, too. He told me you liked me, and was looking up at me with those big blue eyes all full of hope, then I told him, 'Yeah, your dad and I are good friends.' I jerked the world out from under him."   
  
Jason laughed softly. All the pain he'd felt before seemed to have disappeared as soon as he saw Elizabeth's smile. "Let's face it, my kid is in love with you."   
  
"I'm crazy about him, too," she admitted. Elizabeth forced herself to look at him, only to find him staring at her. She couldn't describe the look on his face, or the emotion in his eyes. It only made her feel… Except she wasn't ready to admit to herself what being around him made her feel. "Anyway, back to Carly."   
  
"I really, really don't want to talk about Carly, Elizabeth."   
  
"Oh," she whispered. Her gaze locked with his and something passed between them. Some kind of understanding about Carly. "We don't have to talk about Carly then."   
  
"So…" Jason began. "What do you want to do?"   
  
"We could bake," she suggested suddenly. Realizing how lame that sounded, she backpedaled, "Or not." Embarrassed, Elizabeth covered her face with her hands. "I didn't really just say that, did I?"   
  
"Afraid so," he teased. "But it's okay. I've said some pretty lame things in my day."   
  
"You know, this you isn't so lame. I used to wonder about JQ sometimes, though. I mean, I loved him just like I love you, but he was so…" she trailed off, searching for the appropriate word.  
  
"Boring?" Jason offered. His smile widened as he thought of adjectives to describe his former self. "Spineless? Arrogant? Mama's boy? And well…perfect. Need I go on?"   
  
"I was thinking more along the lines of flat, but those work too." It felt good to see him smile, Elizabeth thought. "How'd it go for you in PC after I left?"   
  
"It went," he replied offhandedly. "I wasn't there much longer than you were. Monica, Alan, hell all of the Qs tried to warn me about Carly. I was so hard headed."   
  
"Yeah, you're kind of a brat that way," she joked. Elizabeth hated that the feeling of seriousness had fallen over them again. An idea came to her and she stood from the chair and went to him. But first, she needed to tell him something. Elizabeth crouched in front of where he sat on the bed, bracing herself by putting a hand on each of his rock solid thighs. "Jase, you have to know that they love you."   
  
"I know they love me," Jason confided. He looked down as she looked up at him. Before he knew what was happening Jason was pushing an errant curl away from her eyes. "It took them two years, though. And sometimes I still wonder about Edward and Alan."   
  
"As long as you know that, Jason." Pushing herself up, Elizabeth was surprised when Jason caught her wrists and pulled her between his open legs. "Jason?" she asked.   
  
"Shhh," he whispered. He released her arms and settled his hands at her waist. "You're so small," he commented. "What are you a size two, or something?"   
  
"Four," she replied. "And don't you know it's improper to ask a girl her size?"   
  
"I'm sorry."   
  
"Don't be." Elizabeth looked down and watched as her hands lifted and wrapped around his neck so that her fingers were playing with the hair at his nape. Funny, she didn't remember making the conscious decision to do that. "So how are you?" she asked casually.   
  
"Me?" he questioned. "Oh, I'm great. What about you?"   
  
"I'm great too." Elizabeth gasped when she felt Jason's slip up her hips towards the edge of her shirt. "Jason," she sighed.   
  
"Shhh," he ordered. "Just feel." His hands skimmed her rib cage, not venturing so high that he would be near her bra. When they hit the bottom of her pajama pants, he went towards the center and her belly button. "I still remember that day in the hospital when I kissed you, Elizabeth. It was the first time I'd felt anything real." His breath fanned over her face, sweet and tangy and moist.  
  
Her eyes were closed, her mouth was slightly opened as he touched her. When Jason's hand closed around the metal stud of her belly button ring and pulled, she gasped. "Jase!"   
  
He pulled back and lifted the edge of her tank top to study the piece of jewelry. "That's new," he observed. "Had it long?"   
  
"I got it two weeks after I moved to Denver," Elizabeth told him. She was surprised she was still capable of forming words at all. His hand was resting against the sensitive skin of her stomach. "My parents offered to pay me serious cash to have it taken out."   
  
"But you didn't."   
  
"No, I didn't." Elizabeth looked down to her stomach where he was touching her before covering his hand with hers. "I like it, and it was only made better that they didn't."   
  
"Now who's the brat?" he teased.   
  
"I've always been a brat." Elizabeth pulled his hand back slightly and linked their fingers. She held them up so they both could see the joined hands. "Did you ever think about us?" she asked softly.   
  
Jason was surprised at her question. "Sometimes," he replied. "But the last thing you seemed interested in was me."   
  
"That would most definitely not be true," Elizabeth admitted. Her fingers played with his hair some more as she stared down at him. Their hands dropped and rested on his thigh, still intertwined. "There was this time in high school that I never told you about. I was head over feet for you, my best friend, and you were in love with Keesha."   
  
"What did he see in her?" Jason asked. "I always wondered about that. In my opinion, she was kind of boring, and not very pretty. She was… why would you settle for a hamburger when you could have steak?"   
  
"Comparing your women to food now, are ya Jase?" she teased. Elizabeth bit back her laughter as embarrassment slashed his cheeks red. "It's ok, though. What'd he see in Keesha? I really don't know, honestly. I've always thought she was all of those things too. You know, they lost their virginity to each other."   
  
Jason nodded. "She told me. At the time, I didn't think much of it. To me she was just another girl begging me to remember." Jason tugged on her belly button ring once more before he released it. Moving his hand back around to her hip, he went towards her back this time. His hand settled in the small of her back and he pulled her closer. "I wanted you, after I woke up."   
  
"I know." Elizabeth chewed at her bottom lip as she contemplated what to say to him, how much to tell him. "But you seemed to want everyone. Even Bobbie Spencer. I'll never forget…" Elizabeth stopped when his cheeks burned crimson. "Ok, I won't bring that up. Let's just say it wasn't your finest moment. Every pretty girl seemed to turn your head. So I figured it was never just me and, if it was, I didn't want just sex. I knew that's all you could have offered me at the time."   
  
He wanted to disagree with her. Jason wanted to tell her he was sure he would have loved her, even though at that point in his life he didn't know how to love. But how could he argue when his entire relationship with Carly was based on sex. "You're right," he finally agreed. "What about now, though?" His thumb was moving over the back of her hand as she looked down at her. Jason tightened his knees on her legs, pinning her in place, then removed his hand from underneath her shirt. It skimmed up her back to her neck where he began pulling her down.   
  
She was bent over in front of him, studying his face. "Are you sure?"   
  
"No," he whispered. "But that's what makes this so…"   
  
"What about Michael?" Elizabeth asked. "We shouldn't do this…not unless we're sure, Jason. Michael is struggling–"  
  
He swallowed the rest of her words with his mouth. He pulled her down and wrapped both of his arms around her waist. It surprised him that after all these years she still tasted like strawberries. His lips moved over hers thoroughly, tasting her for the first time in ages. Jason smiled when her arms wrapped around his neck and she moaned his name. Opening his mouth, he let his tongue slip out to meet hers for the first time.   
  
Elizabeth couldn't believe he was kissing her. After all of this time, Jason was kissing her. She knew she'd be freaking out if she wasn't enjoying it so much. His tongue explored her mouth, learning each crevice before he came back to her and they began moving in a new rhythm. Of all the times she'd thought about kissing him, or even dreamt about kissing him, it had never been like this. "Jason…" she sighed.   
  
Needing air, he pulled back. His mouth skimmed across her jaw to her ear where he kissed the pulse point just below it. "Yes?"   
  
"We can't do this," she said finally. Placing a hand on his chest, she immediately groaned at her mistake. His muscles tightened under her palm and she found herself wondering what he felt like under the cotton t-shirt.   
  
"Why not?" he whispered in her ear before taking the lobe between his mouth.   
  
"Because I want this so badly," she admitted.   
  
He was surprised by her words and released her ear, but didn't let her move away from him. "I've wanted this forever, I think."   
  
She knew his words weren't true, that he said them only to reassure her that he wanted her. Elizabeth looked down at him, her decision made, "I want you, too."   
  
"Why do I feel a 'but' coming along?" he asked.  
  
She shrugged and simply said, "Michael." When he tried to protest, Elizabeth held up her hand. "Plus, I promised my boss this morning that you and I were only friends."   
  
"Ok," he relented. Jason's hand slipped back up to her neck where he started to massage her shoulder gently. "Then we'll be just friends." And he kissed her again.


	11. Caroline

Jason's mood changed from happy to sour as soon as he checked the mail. Tara always collected it for them, leaving it on the coffee table so he could sort through it later. The task had been pushed aside when Elizabeth called asking if he and Michael would be interested in joining she and Zander at the movies that night.   
  
He immediately said yes and the four ended up seeing the newly released _ET: The Extraterrestrial_. Jason felt love and admiration swell up in him when he recalled the way Elizabeth lit up at watching Michael connect his fingers and said, "ET, phone home" much in the same way the alien in the movie did. Her bringing Zander along made the evening feel much less like a date, and more like a family outing.   
  
Jason and Elizabeth had rarely been alone since the night of the stolen kisses in her bedroom. Her attitude towards him hadn't necessarily changed, but she still wouldn't agree to a date. It wasn't that she wasn't interested, because she told him she was. More so, it was her fear for her job, and her concern for Michael. Whenever they were together, Elizabeth was sure to invite Zander along so they could "hang out" or have Michael there and listen as the child went on and on about how things were going for him. Jason wondered if Elizabeth knew that what she was doing was only making them both love her more.   
  
That was what he was thinking about until he began sorting through the mail. Light bill, water bill, telephone bill. Nothing new. But then, stuck in the mix was a long white envelope post marked Florida, and the return address identified the letter as being from Carly's mother. Jason immediately ripped the back seal off the envelope and pulled the white paper from its home. Folded inside of the note Virginia had sent was another sealed white envelope with his name on the outside. The handwriting was like that of another sealed white envelope he'd received all those years ago.   
  
Quickly Jason scanned what Virginia Benson wrote him, hoping that he'd find some explanation for this sudden contact from Carly. Instead she told him the letter had come to her from San Francisco, a note from Carly, which she attached, asking if she could forward this to him. His hands began to shake at the same time his vision blurred. After all of this time, after things were finally _so right_ for him, for Michael, Carly decided to contact them.   
  
He didn't know if he wanted to know what she had to say, but he knew he couldn't leave the letter unopened. Tearing at it, he pulled out a plain white index card. Written on it was a phone number, the words "call me" and her name. His mind was racing a mile a minute as he considered what he would possibly say to her. What she could possibly have to say to him.   
  
Jason stood on shaky legs and made his way to the bedroom where Michael slept. He peeked in the door and heard his son softly snoring, even though it was just after eleven. He smiled sadly to himself, wondering what the child's mother was about to do. He wondered if Carly was about to wreck Michael's life again. No, he decided, she wasn't. He wouldn't let her.   
  
Unlike other nights, Jason was careful to pull Michael's bedroom door shut when he left. He made a note to open it again before he went to bed, but right now he needed his son to not hear the conversation he was about to have. On his way to his bedroom, he stopped by the bathroom and washed his face. Jason knew he was only trying to buy himself time before he made the call that could possibly wreck his life.   
  
He shut the door to his bedroom too. The cordless phone lie on the bed where he'd tossed it after Elizabeth called. The card he held in his hand with Carly's number was crushed because he fisted it in his hand. Jason sat on the end of his bed and reached for the phone. He braced himself for the worst as he dialed.   
  
The phone rang three times before a man answered. _"Hello?"_  
  
"I need to speak with Caro—" his voice broke. Sighing, Jason continued, "I need to speak with Carly, if that's okay."   
  
_"May I ask who's calling?"_ he inquired.   
  
"Yes," Jason hesitated. "Please tell her it's Jason. She'll want to talk to me."   
  
_"Hold on a sec."_  
  
Jason listened as the man carried the phone through out rooms looking for Carly. He listened to the stranger calling her name, then he heard water running and a brief conversation between the man and Carly before she came on the line. _"Jason?"_  
  
"It's me, Carly. Your mother sent me the card."  
  
_"Oh Jason,"_ she whispered. Carly looked up and glared at the man who was standing above her, glaring. _"Do you mind?"_ she asked him. Satisfied when he turned and stomped out of the room, slamming the door in his wake, Carly returned her attention to the phone. _"I didn't think you'd call. It's been so long."_  
  
"Your choice, not mine Carly. Let's make this short. What do you want?"   
  
_"I just…"_ she began. Carly stood from the bathtub and reached for her robe. She pressed the phone between her ear and shoulder as she knotted the belt at her waist. _"How is he, Jason?"_  
  
"He has a name," Jason growled. "It's Michael. You didn't leave before we named him, Carly. He's your son, his name is Michael."   
  
_"I know damn well what his name is Jason,_ Carly spit back. _"I messed up Jason, I know that. I'm sor—"_  
  
"Don't say it," he cut her off. "Don't tell me your sorry, because you're not. Why did you want me to call? Are you getting a belated case of guilty conscience and you thought you'd check in on your son five years after you left him? Well, let me tell you, you shouldn't have."   
  
_"Jason,"_ she cried. _"Don't be like this. Jason, we're family."_  
  
"No, we're not. Carly, you have exactly five seconds to tell me what you want before I hang up. And I won't call back."   
  
_"Jas—"_  
  
"One…two…I'm telling you Carly, I'm gonna hang up…three…"   
  
_"Ok, ok. I'm pregnant, Jason. And I'm engaged."_  
  
The news hit him like a ton of bricks. It wasn't that he was still in love with her. It wasn't that he really gave a damn about what she did. It was… "Are you going to run out on him and his kid too, Carly?"   
  
_"NO!"_ she cried.   
  
"Then why are you telling me this? Here's a clue: find a quarter and call someone who gives a damn. Because I don't. Are we finished now? If so, I have to go."   
  
_"Jason, I wanna see Michael. That's why I'm calling. I want him…and you to come out to __San Francisco__ and visit us. Meet my fiancée, please Jason?" _  
  
It felt like someone was reaching into his chest, grabbing his heart and squeezing as hard as possible. Jason closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "I don't think that's a good idea, Carly. No wait, I _know_ it isn't a good idea."   
  
_"Why not Jason?"_ she queried. Carly studied her nails, frowning at the chipped one on her left ring finger. Her eyes strayed to the two karat diamond set on the simple gold band and she scowled in distaste. It wasn't that it wasn't beautiful, because it was. And she would keep it, when she left.   
  
"There are people here, Carly, that I can't leave behind. People who matter. Besides, Michael's in school," he explained. Logically Jason knew he could take a weekend and let the boy meet his mother. But something in him felt the best thing for Michael, at his young age, was restricting his knowledge of Carly to the picture on the child's nightstand. "I won't do that to Michael, Carly."   
  
_"He's my son,"_ she told him. _"We made him together. I have just as much right to him as you do, Jase. And I want to see him."_  
  
"He wouldn't understand," Jason hissed into the phone. "You leave him as a baby, but yet you're going to have another one?" He sighed, dragged his free hand over his face. "He's five years old Carly. He won't understand why you couldn't stay. I _won't_ do that to him. _You_ won't do that to him."   
  
Carly squeeze her eyes shut at the unexpected tears. No matter what she told herself, she loved her first child dearly. But the tears were also for Jason and the coldness she heard in his voice. _"What have you told him?"_  
  
"The truth, Carly. I told him the truth." No longer able to stand still, Jason pushed himself off the bed and began to pace. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck as he continued. "He doesn't want you. He wants a new mother. In fact, he's got one picked out already." Ok, so maybe that was a low blow.   
  
_"WHAT!?"_ she cried. _"You bastard, what did you tell him?"_  
  
"I told you," Jason repeated. "I told him the truth. You can't see him Carly, end of story. When he's older, and if he wants to see you, then yes you can see him. But I'm going to protect him from you for as long as I can."   
  
_"Protect him? I'm his **mother** Jason!"_  
  
"You gave birth to him, Carly. You've never been his mother."   
  
_"I'll take you to court,"_ she threatened. _"I'll get a court order and you'll have to let me see him."_   
  
"Who are you fooling?" Jason questioned. "You and I both know not a judge in this country will let you near him." Jason paused and squeezed his eyes shut, not sure what to say next. "Besides, the Quartermaines will never let you near him. To them you're just a money grubbing whore. That's all you've ever been."   
  
_"That's not true,"_ she whispered. _"You know that's not true, Jason._  
  
"I used to know that, Caroline. But then you proved them right…" Jason sighed. Sitting back on the bed, he glanced at the clock. He'd been talking to her for twenty minutes longer than he had wanted to. "I have to go, Carly. I won't call you again, and don't send me any more letters." Jason heard her talking animatedly into the phone making threats about Michael and her new husband as he clicked the off button. The phone fell from his fingers onto the bed and he considered what to do next.   
  
Jason wasn't sure when he made the conscious decision to call her. All he knew was that the phone was ringing in his ear then Elizabeth was answering it. "I need to see you," he whispered into the receiver. Jason sighed in relief when Elizabeth promised she'd be right over. Of course she would, she was Elizabeth.   
  
  


~*~

  
  
Twenty minutes after his phone call Elizabeth was standing at his door, knocking. She hadn't even bothered to change from her tank top and pajama pants, just slipping on a pair of flip flops and pulling a jacket over her. She'd at least had enough sense to call a cab and not try to walk through the park at that time of night.   
  
When he opened the door, Jason looked old. His body looked tired and his eyes looked defeated. Elizabeth didn't protest when he pulled her inside and wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her close. She returned the hug, wrapping her arms around his bare shoulders. She was aware she was saying something to him, but didn't really pay attention to what they were… Nonsensical things mostly. Things she hoped would make him feel better.   
  
Jason finally released her and stepped back. His hand went to the back of his neck as he worked on some invisible knot that had formed. "Thank you for coming," he said finally.   
  
Elizabeth looked up at him through heavy lids. "You said you needed me. I'm here."   
  
Jason closed the distance between them again and cupped her chin with his hand. "I love you," he whispered.   
  
Startled by his admission, Elizabeth took a step back and her back pressed against his would door. "What did—what did you say?"   
  
"I love you," he repeated. Jason took steps towards her, careful to not get too close. "You know that right?"   
  
Elizabeth sighed in relief. "I love you too, Jase. We're friends."   
  
He knew he was scaring her, and he hoped she loved him as a lot more than just a friend. But he let the subject drop, for now. "I just got off the phone with Carly."   
  
The awkwardness was forgotten as she took the remaining steps to him. Her hand rested on his forearm and she stared up at him. "Are you okay? What did she want? What happened?"   
  
Jason took her hand in his and led her towards his bedroom. He sat her down on the bed, then left. While he was out, he turned the nightlight in the hall on and cracked open Michael's door. When he returned Jason left the door to his room cracked, too. He sat beside her, taking her hand in his lap. "I got this letter from Carly's mom. Inside of it was a note from Carly asking me to call her. So I did."   
  
"What did she want?"   
  
"To tell me that she's pregnant and getting married. But also, she wants to see Michael."   
  
"What did you tell her?" Elizabeth asked. Her thumb began to absently stroke his palm as she listened to him talk.   
  
"Basically I said over my dead body. She threatened me with court. Then, I did the damndest thing." Jason glanced down, ashamed of his actions. His hand tightened around Elizabeth's, afraid that she would pull back when she heard what he did. "I threatened her with the Quartermaines."   
  
Elizabeth lifted her hand to his face and tilted it so she could see him. "It's ok," she whispered. Her hand smoothed over his creased brow and lingered on the scar on his forehead. To Jason it felt like she was pouring her love into him. Leaning forward, Elizabeth touched her lips to his forehead, then to his cheek. Finally she reached his lips and she kissed him softly. Pulling back, her eyes were shining with unshed tears. "You don't have to be ashamed or embarrassed. You love that little boy, Jason. And you would do anything to keep him. The Quartermaines would help you."   
  
Jason laughed sharply. "Except I'd have to make a deal with the devil for them to even consider it."   
  
"Don't think about it," she whispered. Elizabeth leaned forward so that her body was being supported by his. She wrapped her arms around him in comfort as his came up to hold her there. "Just…feel," she whispered.   
  
Jason shivered at her breath on his ear. His eyes closed on a sigh as she kissed the area below his ear. "Thank you."   
  
"You don't have to thank me, Jason. Like I said, I love you."   
  
"About that–" he began.   
  
"No," she cut him off. "It's okay. I understand." Abruptly Elizabeth pulled back, disentangling their bodies. "Are you okay?"   
  
Jason nodded. "I'll be okay, don't worry. Are you going to go back tonight?"   
  
"I should. I mean, I don't want to put you out."   
  
"You wouldn't be," he told her. "I would love if you slept with me tonight." Jason's eyes widened at his words. "I mean that in a totally non-sexual way," he tried to correct himself. "I meant…you would sleep, and I would sleep." His cheeks were stained crimson as he tried to dig himself out of the hole his words put him in.  
  
Elizabeth smiled brightly at his embarrassment. Fighting back giggles, she took pity on him and nodded. Placing her hand over his mouth, she silenced his corrections. "I'll stay."   
  
"Are you sure?" he asked.   
  
"I am." Elizabeth stood from the bed and went and pulled the covers back. Slipping off her jacket and her shoes, Elizabeth slipped between the sheets.. "One condition, though."   
  
"What's that?"   
  
"I get the right side," she grinned. Jason nodded mutely as he slid into the bed beside her, grinning. When Elizabeth snuggled next to him, and his arms wrapped around her slender waist, all of his troubles were forgotten.   
  
At least for tonight.


	12. Waking Up Next to You

It was warm where she was.   
  
Soft, like cashmere, but hard like chiseled marble. Elizabeth kept her eyes closed as she turned into the warmth of the marble and sighed before she slipped back into unconsciousness. Sleep. Sleep was what she needed. Lots of it.   
  
When she woke again, there was a phone ringing next to her head. Except there wasn't a phone in her bedroom. Elizabeth became more aware when someone reached across her and answered the phone. "Hello?" she heard.   
  
Her eyes popped open and she saw the bare arm above her head. The room was dark. She turned her head and sighed when the red digital numbers told her it was only four a.m. She could sleep for another hour, at least. Elizabeth remained quiet as Jason finished his phone conversation, then hung it up. She smiled to herself when he kissed her forehead before he slipped from beneath the covers. "Where are you going?" she asked finally.  
  
"Damn," he muttered. Jason crossed to the door and fumbled for the light switch in the dark. When he found it, he saw Elizabeth sitting up on her elbows in his bed, her hair mussed from her sleep. "I was hoping it didn't wake you."   
  
Elizabeth worked hard to keep her eyes on his face and not let them drift down over his body. He'd been sleeping in a pair of cut off jogging pants that rode low on his hips. She licked her suddenly dry lips and asked, "What's wrong?"   
  
"The alarm is going off at the bike shop," he explained. Jason crossed to the hamper in the corner and fished out the jeans he'd pulled off just hours before. "The owner wants me to go turn it off, check it out."   
  
"Are you sure that's safe?" Concern laced her voice as scenarios raced through her head. "I mean, something had to set it off."   
  
"Nah." Jason pulled the denim over his hips and zipped the fly. He left the button undone as he went to the dresser in search of a t-shirt. "Probably a cat, or something. It's happened before."  
  
Elizabeth watched his muscles appreciatively as they stretched and relaxed when he pulled the red cotton t-shirt over his head. She cocked her head to the side and smiled at his comfortableness with her. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought they were lovers. "At least you should call the police, or something?" she suggested.   
  
"They're already there. Who do you think called the owner?" Jason sat on the edge of the bed beside her and pulled on his socks. The black motorcycle boots came next before he was finally dressed. "You'll stay, won't you? Michael's here."   
  
Elizabeth pushed herself up freely, the cover sliding down into her lap. She caught Jason staring at her chest, then blushed when she realized her tank top was twisted and she was exposing more of herself than hiding. Taking a minute, she adjusted the top back to its original position. "Yeah, I'll stay." Elizabeth reached up and pushed her hair from her eyes. "Promise me you'll be careful?"   
  
His hand caught hers and he pulled it to his lips and kissed it. "I told you, I'm sure it's nothing." Not releasing her hand, Jason tugged her forward. His other hand came up to push the hair out of her face as he studied her. "Thank you, for last night. You don't know how much I needed it."   
  
"I didn't do anything Jason."   
  
Jason's hand fisted in her hair as he tugged her close to him. He first dropped a kiss on her forehead, then on her cheek. "I'm going to kiss you," he warned.   
  
Before Elizabeth had a chance to respond his lips were covering hers. He kept the kiss light, but it still managed to steal her breath. His lips ever-so-slightly moved over hers before he pulled back. Standing, Jason let go of her hand and it dropped into her lap. "Go back to sleep," he urged. "I'll be back in an hour or so. I'll wake you when I get here, so you'll have time to go back to your apartment and change for work."   
  
"Ok," she agreed. Jason turned out the light when he left. Elizabeth sat there, listening as he carefully made his way through the small apartment before she lay back down. Her eyes drifted shut when she heard him pulling the front door closed and turning the deadbolt with his key. Elizabeth smiled as she reached up to her lips, still tasting him there.   
  
Snuggling into the bed, Elizabeth pulled Jason's pillow to her body and hugged it. It smelled like him. Her mind began to drift into sleep as she lay there, listening to the silent apartment.   
  
  


~*~

  
  
When she woke again, someone was in the kitchen. The clock read twenty minutes after five. She knew she needed to get up and get out of there before Michael woke. Pushing the blankets back, Elizabeth stood and stretched her sleepy body, forcing the early morning kinks out.   
  
She turned the lamp on the nightstand on and searched the room for her flip flops and her jacket. She slipped her feet into the shoes and folded her jacket over her arm. Quietly, Elizabeth exited Jason's bedroom and made her way to the kitchen. He was standing over the stove where a pot of water was boiling. "Jason," she said quietly.   
  
He turned and smiled at her. "I was going to wake you in about ten minutes. You sleep okay?"   
  
"Yeah," she told him. "What happened at the bike shop?"   
  
"The police thought they saw someone prowling around, but they never found him. They said they could put an extra patrol out in the neighborhood at night, just to be careful."   
  
Mutely, Elizabeth nodded her head.   
  
"You want some breakfast?" he offered. "It won't take me but a second."   
  
Elizabeth shook her head as she gathered her hair into a rather pitiful ponytail. "I think it'd be best if I got out of here before Michael woke up. He's gonna ask questions we don't have the answers to right now."   
  
Jason turned to boiling water off and went to stand next to her. His hand settled on her shoulder and he squeezed it comfortingly. "Go to the movies with me," he said suddenly.   
  
"Jase," Elizabeth began. She looked up at his hopeful face, blue eyes shining with emotion. It took her back to when he was thirteen and they'd had their first major fight. She hadn't been able to say no to him then either. "I don't think that's a good idea," she said finally.   
  
"Why not?"   
  
"Michael, for one," she began.   
  
"Michael adores you Elizabeth. You know that." Jason's hand slipped down her arm to her hand and he twined their fingers. "What's the real reason?"   
  
"My job–"   
  
"Who's going to tell?" he questioned. "That's not a reason, that's something you hide behind."   
  
She jerked back from him as if he'd struck her. "I have to go."   
  
"I didn't mean that," he said immediately. "I just want to know why, Elizabeth. We're obviously attracted to each other. I can see it in your eyes, I can feel it when you look at me. I just want a reason, Elizabeth. Something that makes sense, because nothing you've given me so far has."   
  
Elizabeth crossed her arms over her breasts and looked away from him. Her jaw ticked as she considered what to say to him. She could feel his blue eyes boring holes in her. Finally, she looked back at him and sighed. "I'm not safe with you."   
  
"Safe?"   
  
Elizabeth held his gaze as she continued. "My heart jumps when you enter the room. I become suddenly aware of everything around me, and every pretty girl around me. Because I want you to see me. I'm terrified of falling in love with Michael, because someday you're going to meet a woman who will steal your heart and she's going to be so perfect for you. I can't take much more disappointment, Jase. I'm not even sure if I can take any."   
  
"Who says I'm going to disappoint you?" he asked. Jason took a step towards her so that her body was pinned between his and the kitchen counter. His hand lifted to her cheek and he cupped it gently. "I haven't felt anything remotely real since Carly left me. But when I'm around you, I forget all about her Elizabeth. All I can focus on is the way you look at my son with such love. How you look at me, Elizabeth. One look from you, and it makes me believe in everything again."   
  
Elizabeth bit her lip as she studied him through her lashes. She had so much she wanted to tell him, but still she was afraid. It would be too much, too soon. "What exactly does a date with you entail?" she asked finally. "And just because I asked that, it doesn't mean I'm agreeing, I'm just curious."   
  
Jason bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. His finger trailed down her jaw line and then traced her collar bone back to her shoulder. "Maybe a Saturday afternoon picnic in the park? A black and white matinee of some Fred Astaire movie, then dinner? A ride in a carriage. A thousand different things, Elizabeth. A motorcycle ride up to Navy Pier and spending the afternoon there."   
  
She couldn't help the small tugging at her lips. "Well that does sound nice."   
  
"Which one?" he asked.   
  
"All of them," she admitted. Somewhere in his apartment an alarm chimed marking the half hour. "I should go."  
  
"You'll come with me? This Saturday?"   
  
"I never agreed to that, Jase. But I'll think about it."   
  
Jason nodded. "I want to kiss you," he said suddenly. "But I won't. If safe is what you want, then I'll give you safe. I'll make it safe for you."   
  
Elizabeth's hands slid up his arms to his shoulders and tugged him towards her. "I never said safe was good. Besides, the last thing you make me feel is safe." Her hands cupped his face as she leaned forward and kissed him.   
  
  


~*~

  
  
Elizabeth snuck into their apartment and thought it was all clear when the lights were turned down, and it was completely silent. She was ready to burst and thought about going to Zander's room and banging on the door until he was awake. But, she thought better of it. Zander was still smarting over Lucy, and she didn't need to make him feel worse.   
  
Instead, she headed straight to her bedroom where she stripped. Wrapping her terrycloth robe around her, Elizabeth went to the bathroom to shower. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror before stepping into the hot water and noticed she was absolutely glowing. Is that what a few kisses from Jason did to her?  
  
A half an hour later Elizabeth emerged from the bathroom, her hair still damp but not wet, the bath robe wrapped snugly around her. And she was still smiling. When Elizabeth passed Zander's door she frowned to find it still closed. He was usually up long before her making them breakfast. Not thinking twice about it, Elizabeth closed her own bedroom door and began to dress. Today she went with khaki pants, a black casual t-shirt and matching black boots. She left the music off and sighed in relief when she heard Zander's door open at 6:25.   
  
He was in the living room watching the news when she found him. His hair was tousled from his sleep and he hadn't pulled a t-shirt on over his bare chest. Elizabeth sipped at her hot chocolate as she studied him. "Don't be mad," she said finally.   
  
"I'm not," he answered. Zander dropped the remote control on the end table beside him and turned to study her. "I was worried about you, but I'm not mad. I wish you would have given me more of an explanation last night before you called a cab and disappeared."   
  
"I didn't have anymore information. Jason called and said, 'I need to see you…' and that was all I knew. I had to go to him, Zan."   
  
"It's ok, Emmy. Is he ok?" His concern touched her and she couldn't help but flop on the couch next to him and tame his hair with her fingers.   
  
She giggled when he tried ducking away, smacked his shoulder playfully before taking another sip of her hot chocolate. "Carly contacted him. She wants to see Michael and Jason had a really bad reaction to that."   
  
Zander nodded, knowing it wasn't really his business, and that Emma wasn't going to tell him more. "Did you stay there last night?"   
  
"He asked me to. I would have called, but I was afraid you'd be upset with me. I couldn't deal with that."   
  
"I was worried," he said. "I wish you would have called."   
  
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I'll remember next time."   
  
Zander looked up at her and grinned. "So there's gonna be a next time?"   
  
Elizabeth blushed at the double meaning to his words. Instead of answering his question, she opted to change the subject. "Jason wants me to go out with him. On a real date."   
  
"Well he finally did something right," Zander teased. "Are you gonna go?"   
  
"I want to. But I told him I'd think about it. I'm just not safe with him, Zan." She sighed, leaned forward with the hot chocolate in her hands. "He makes me feel things I never thought possible."   
  
"You love him."   
  
"He's a friend," she said immediately. "Of course I love him."   
  
"But you don't love him the way you love a friend, do you? How many of your _friends_ make you feel the way Jason does, Em?"   
  
"None of them," she admitted. "I haven't felt like this in a long time, Zander. It terrifies me."   
  
"It's supposed to, Emma." Zander wrapped an arm around her and hugged her to him. "Give it time, you'll figure it out. Loving Jason isn't gonna be a bad thing, Emma. He's not gonna hurt you."   
  
She turned to her cousin and smiled. Her eyes held unshed tears as she studied him. "You're right."


	13. Definitely

The machine was blinking when she got home from work. The doors were locked and the lights turned off, so she knew Zander was still at work. Plus, he said he was going to the bar tonight with some friends from work. Elizabeth knew they'd been riding him hard to meet a nice girl, and to forget about the rich bitch that dumped him.   
  
When he'd told her, Elizabeth had burst into laughter, then agreed with them. He was twenty seven years old and was in desperate need of someone he could share the nights with. Someone who would appreciate him for who he was, and not just as a toy that could be discarded when bored. He'd told her this morning they were trying to set him up with someone new and that he'd agreed to meet the girl. Silently, she prayed that this woman wouldn't hurt him, not again.  
  
"You have one new message," the machine said to her after she pressed the button.   
  
"At 3:03 p.m. a message was received. _Hi, Elizabeth. It's Michael. I was going to tell you at school, but I forgot. Dad wants to know if you can come over tonight at __six fifteen__? I'm sorry I forgot to tell you, but please come._ You have no more messages."   
  
Elizabeth stared down at the black machine, wondering why Jason hadn't called her. It seemed… odd. He wouldn't send Michael with a message like that. Glancing at the clock, she thought about calling him at work, but he usually got off around 5:30. When they'd spoken on the phone the previous night, Jason hadn't said anything about Friday, just confirming their date for Saturday.   
  
Their date, she smiled. With a little more urging from Zander, she finally jumped off the cliff and told him yes. And she felt like she was fifteen and going out with Lucky Spencer again. Her smile turned to a frown when she thought of Lucky. He had been a _great_ friend, but a horrible choice as first boyfriend. They 'went out' all of three days before they decided to just be friends. Elizabeth always felt a little sad when she thought of him. It'd been years since Lucky had perished in the house fire.   
  
With a sigh she pushed thoughts of her dead friend from her mind and concentrated on what Michael had said. As a rule, she never allowed herself to dwell on the people from her former life. It sometimes brought unpleasant feelings and Elizabeth wasn't about to let her parents or the life they wanted for her bring her down.   
  
  


~*~

  
  
Tara watched in awe as Michael pulled the peanut butter and jelly from the side of the refrigerator and placed them on the counter. He pulled a stool from under the cabinet and sat on it so he could make the sandwiches. "What're you doing?" she queried.   
  
"A friend is coming over to play," Michael explained. "I told her I'd make snacks."   
  
"Her?" the babysitter asked. The seventeen year old couldn't help the smile that pulled at her mouth. "Do you have a girlfriend at school, Michael?"   
  
"Ew. Girls are gross." Michael slapped a spoonful of peanut butter on the bread and began to smooth it, trying to not tear the bread. "No, this is Elizabeth. She's way too old for me."   
  
Tara leaned against the doorway and thought about helping, but she knew the little boy was a lot like his father and wouldn't accept her offer. "Then how do you know her Michael?"   
  
"From school. She's my teacher."   
  
"You invited your teacher over for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?"   
  
"She was my friend first," he explained. Michael turned and gave his babysitter a toothy grin. "She's Daddy's friend, Elizabeth. He likes her a lot."   
  
Her interest was piqued. "He does?"   
  
Michael nodded as he began making another sandwich. "They're old friends, Daddy says. From Port Charles."   
  
"Oh," Tara sighed in relief. For a minute there, she was concerned about Elizabeth. "What do you know about her Michael?" she pried.   
  
"Daddy likes her, I told you," Michael said impatiently. When he was finished with the second sandwich he turned to Tara. "Will you cut these for me? I'm not allowed to use the knife."   
  
Tara went to the drawer with the knives and took one out. She cut the sandwiches into halves, then quarters before she dropped the knife into the sink. "What else?"   
  
"Lemonade," Michael beamed. "Get two glasses. Elizabeth and Daddy will be here soon." He went to the refrigerator and pulled out the pitcher of lemonade he'd begged his dad to make him that morning. "Daddy's taking her out on a date on Saturday."   
  
"A date?" Tara repeated. She kept her voice steady as she sat the glasses on the cabinet and helped Michael pour. "Your daddy doesn't date, Michael. He hasn't in a long time."   
  
"That's because he hasn't found anyone he likes," Michael explained. He studied his babysitter, then smiled. "I want Elizabeth to be my new mommy."   
  
"Michael…"   
  
"Besides, Elizabeth has already spent the night here with Daddy."   
  
"What?" Tara exclaimed. Jason…and Elizabeth…sex. No, it wasn't possible. "What do you mean spent the night? Was it because your daddy wasn't here?"   
  
Michael took the plate with the sandwiches and asked, "Will you get the drinks?" before he started for the table off the living room. He sat the plate in the middle and went back to the pitcher of lemonade. "She stayed in Daddy's room with him. I– I–," he blushed. "I peeked," he finally confessed, an impish grin lighting up his tiny face. "I woke up when the phone rang, and there they were."  
  
Michael went into the kitchen and Tara listened as he fumbled in one of the drawers. He returned with an evergreen-colored pillar candle, a saucer, and some matches. "Light it for me, please?" he asked, thrusting the candle and matches at her.   
  
Numbly, Tara lit the candle as she fought back to the tears in her eyes. She couldn't stop mentally berating herself for thinking she really had a chance with someone like Jason. Sure, she was young. But she wasn't _that_ young and ten years wasn't _much_ difference, really. When he was forty-five, she'd be thirty-five.   
  
A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts and Michael flew into the living room. She entered the room much slower as Michael fidgeted by the door. "Aren't you gonna answer it?" he said impatiently.   
  
Tara pushed her feelings aside as she went to answer the door. Standing there was the woman who had stolen Michael and Jason's heart, she realized. It was the woman from the picture in the shoebox. The one Jason had practically bit her head off about. "Come in," she said finally.   
  
Michael was already tugging on Elizabeth's hand, pulling her towards the table. Elizabeth's eyes widened at the set up on the table and bit back a laugh. She realized Jason hadn't called, that Michael had set them both up. "Where's your dad?" she asked.   
  
"He'll be home soon," Michael said, brightly. The child turned his attention back to Tara and took her hand. "You stay here, Elizabeth. Me and Tara will be in the living room."   
  
"Tara and I," Elizabeth heard herself correcting him. She laughed softly; it must have been the teacher in her. "Ok, Michael. But I think your Daddy's gonna want to talk to you about this."   
  
"It's ok," the child said. "He likes you Elizabeth. Just have fun."   
  
Jason entered the apartment a few minutes later. He saw Tara sitting on the couch, her arms crossed over her chest, and she looked upset. Michael was sitting next to her, his eyes glued to the cartoon. "What's wrong?" he asked.   
  
Tara stood and grabbed her jacket. "Can I have my money?" she asked.   
  
Jason frowned at her treatment of him, especially in front of Michael. But he reached for his pocket and pulled out two twenties and a ten. "Tara, tell me what happened."   
  
"Nothing," she snapped. Her eyes widened at her tone. "I'm sorry, Mr. Morgan."   
  
Jason pressed the money into her open palm and waved her apologies away. "It's okay. I just hope whatever it is gets better. You'll still be able to sit for me tomorrow, right?"   
  
"That's right," she said, "You have a _date_."   
  
Jason cocked an eyebrow at the way she said the last word. "How'd you know about that?"   
  
"Michael told me. Besides, she's waiting for you in the kitchen."   
  
"Elizabeth is here?" Jason asked. His eyes trailed to the kitchen, but he caught movement from the small dining room. "Michael must have called her."   
  
"He's got a nice set up going in there," she told him. Tara closed her fist around the money and grabbed her book bag. "I have to go Mr. Morgan."   
  
"Ok, ok. See ya later." Jason frowned when the young girl stormed out of his apartment, slamming the door in her wake.   
  
Next, he went to where Michael was on the couch. The little boy was laying down, pretending to be asleep. Jason smiled when he noticed the smile twitching at the little boy's lips. He'd deal with him later.   
  
Like Tara said, Elizabeth was waiting for him in the dining room. The lights were dimmed and a candle flickered in the center of the table, a saucer set beneath it to catch the wax overflow. Two full glasses of lemonade sat there with small finger sandwiches for them to eat. "Elizabeth?" he asked.   
  
She turned in her chair and smiled at him. "You think he's trying to tell us something?" she joked.   
  
Jason couldn't stop his smile as he crossed to her. Instead of sitting across from her, he sat beside her, resting one hand on her thigh. "I imagined what it would be like to come home to you. It was never this good."   
  
She blushed at his compliment, but didn't offer one in return. Elizabeth motioned towards the sandwiches and said, "We should eat. I think Michael worked really hard at this."   
  
Jason nodded, and then followed her lead as she reached for one of the tiny sandwiches. "He called you, huh?"   
  
"Yep. Left a message on my machine that _you_ needed to talk to me," she said in between bites. Elizabeth reached for her lemonade and took a long swallow.   
  
"That little sneak."   
  
"I think he just wanted us to spend some time together. And I don't think your babysitter likes me."   
  
"I told you," Jason said, "she has a crush on me." He reached for another sandwich and popped it in his mouth. "Until you she's been the only 'woman' in my life and I think Tara liked it that way."   
  
"And she thought you liked her?"   
  
"No, no," he tried to assure her. "I was always careful with Tara. Not only because I sometimes feel like her older brother, and she reminds me a lot of Emily, but she's a minor. Besides, I've already fallen for someone else."   
  
Elizabeth smiled. "You have, eh?"   
  
"Oh yeah. This girl… she's amazing." Jason took a drink of his lemonade, his eyes never leaving Elizabeth's.   
  
"This girl," she commented. "Tell me about her."   
  
Jason reached out and touched her hair and said, "She has the most beautiful hair in the world. It's brown and curly and soft. Every time I see her, I want to run my fingers through it." Next he traced her face and said, "She has the face of an angel. Eyes I could get lost in, if I let myself. And a beautiful, kissable mouth." Jason grinned proudly when Elizabeth started to smile. "And her smile lights up my life. She and Michael are the two best things in my life."   
  
"You're sweet, Jason. Must be a fortunate girl."   
  
"I'm pretty fortunate myself," he continued. "My son is in love with her, too."   
  
"Well, as Michael's teacher, I think it's safe to say he's a great kid," she commented. "Plus, he has a hot daddy."   
  
"I bet you say that to all the fathers," Jason teased.   
  
"Nope," Elizabeth replied. Leaning forward, she braced her hands on his thighs and smiled at him. "I'm really looking forward to tomorrow."   
  
Jason ran his fingers through her hair and nodded. "Me too. I really hope you have a nice time."   
  
"I'm sure _we_ will." Elizabeth kissed him softly, much like he did that night in the hospital years ago. She wouldn't allow it to go any further. "I should go," she said suddenly.  
  
"Zander?" Jason questioned.   
  
"No, actually, I have a date with a bowl of popcorn and Julia Roberts flick."   
  
Jason pressed a hand to his chest and tried his best to look wounded. "I'm hurt. You'd rather spend the night with popcorn and a movie than me and Michael?"   
  
"Well, what do you have to offer me Mr. Morgan?"   
  
"I'm sure I could find a bowl of popcorn, some real dinner, and a movie," he offered. "Just you, me, and Michael."   
  
"Okay," she agreed. "You go get Michael, and I'll freshen up."   
  
Jason kissed her nose before he released her. "Bathroom's that way," he said, nodding his head towards the bedrooms. "Everything you need should be in there."   
  
"Thanks," she said before disappearing down the hall.  
  
Jason stood and went to the living room and found Michael watching cartoons. "Hey buddy."   
  
Michael smiled broadly up at his father. "Where's Elizabeth?" he queried.   
  
"She'll be back in a second, Michael."   
  
"Okay, Daddy." Michael moved so that he was leaning against his father's chest and they watched cartoons together. "You aren't mad are you, Dad?"   
  
"No."   
  
"Good," the child said. He looked up at his father, eyes wide, a grin on his face. "So, I was wondering… Do you think Elizabeth will be my new Mommy?"   
  
Jason couldn't contain his grin as he looked down at his son. The child's eyes were shining with love and hope, something he couldn't dare crush. "Most definitely, Michael."   
  
Elizabeth stood in the doorway, silently listening to the exchange. When she heard Jason's response, her heart leapt into her throat. But it was a good kind of leap. The kind that told her she was finally set free.   
  
  


_finis_


End file.
